{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_27692/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_27692","id":"gutenberg_27692","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/27692","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Ancient","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Rome -- History -- To 510 B.C.","Romulus, King of Rome"],"text":"Produced by D. Alexander and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Makers of History\n\n Romulus\n\n BY JACOB ABBOTT\n\n WITH ENGRAVINGS\n\n NEW YORK AND LONDON\n\n HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS\n\n 1901\n\n\n\n\n Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by\n\n HARPER & BROTHERS,\n\n in the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York.\n\n Copyright, 1880, by BENJAMIN VAUGHAN ABBOTT, AUSTIN ABBOTT,\n LYMAN ABBOTT, and EDWARD ABBOTT.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE HARPIES.]\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nIn writing the series of historical narratives to which the present\nwork pertains, it has been the object of the author to furnish to the\nreading community of this country an accurate and faithful account of\nthe lives and actions of the several personages that are made\nsuccessively the subjects of the volumes, following precisely the\nstory which has come down to us from ancient times. The writer has\nspared no pains to gain access in all cases to the original sources of\ninformation, and has confined himself strictly to them. The reader\nmay, therefore, feel assured in perusing any one of these works, that\nthe interest of it is in no degree indebted to the invention of the\nauthor. No incident, however trivial, is ever added to the original\naccount, nor are any words even, in any case, attributed to a speaker\nwithout express authority. Whatever of interest, therefore, these\nstories may possess, is due solely to the facts themselves which are\nrecorded in them, and to their being brought together in a plain,\nsimple, and connected narrative.\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS.\n\n\n CHAPTER                                                    PAGE\n\n    I. CADMUS                                                13\n\n   II. CADMUS'S LETTERS                                      36\n\n  III. THE STORY OF AENEAS                                    59\n\n   IV. THE DESTRUCTION OF TROY                               79\n\n    V. THE FLIGHT OF AENEAS                                  103\n\n   VI. THE LANDING IN LATIUM                                131\n\n  VII. RHEA SILVIA                                          155\n\n VIII. THE TWINS                                            179\n\n   IX. THE FOUNDING OF ROME                                 202\n\n    X. ORGANIZATION                                         225\n\n   XI. WIVES                                                248\n\n  XII. THE SABINE WAR                                       270\n\n XIII. THE CONCLUSION                                       295\n\n\n\n\nENGRAVINGS.\n\n\n                                                            PAGE\n\n THE HARPIES                                    _Frontispiece._\n\n JUPITER AND EUROPA                                          28\n\n MAP--JOURNEYINGS OF CADMUS                                  30\n\n SYMBOLICAL WRITING                                          37\n\n SYMBOLICAL AND PHONETIC WRITING                             44\n\n HIEROGLYPHICS                                               56\n\n MAP--ORIGIN OF VENUS                                        61\n\n AENEAS DEFENDING THE BODY OF PANDARUS                        68\n\n THE TORTOISE                                                98\n\n HELEN                                                      105\n\n MAP--WANDERINGS OF AENEAS                                   119\n\n MAP--LATIUM                                                134\n\n SILVIA'S STAG                                              145\n\n RHEA SILVIA                                                180\n\n FAUSTULUS AND THE TWINS                                    184\n\n SITUATION OF ROME                                          209\n\n PROMISING THE BRACELETS                                    284\n\n THE DEATH OF ROMULUS                                       305\n\n\n\n\nROMULUS\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nCADMUS.\n\nB.C. 1500\n\nDifferent kinds of greatness.--Founders of cities.--Rome.--Interest\nin respect to its origin.--The story of AEneas.--The Mediterranean\nsea.--Italy and Greece in ancient times, and now.--Ancient\nchieftains.--Their modes of life.--Religious ideas of the ancient\nGreeks and Romans.--Ancient studies of nature.--Purpose of\nthem.--History.--Ancient poems and tales.--How far founded\nin fact.--Cadmus.--Interest felt in respect to the\norigin of writing.--True story of Cadmus.--His father\nAgenor.--Europa.--Telephassa.--The pursuit of Europa.--Fruitless\nresult.--Cadmus settles in Greece.--Thebes.--Arts introduced by\nhim.--The ancient legend of Cadmus.--Jupiter.--Adventures of\nJupiter.--His love for Europa.--His elopement.--Jupiter and Europa\nin Crete.--The expedition of Cadmus.--His various wanderings.--Death\nof Telephassa.--Visit to the oracle at Delphi.--The directions of\nthe oracle.--Cadmus finds his guide.--The place for his city\ndetermined.--The fountain of Dirce.--The dragon's teeth.--Thebes\nbuilt.--Cadmia.--Ancient ideas of probability.--Belief in supernatural\ntales.--Final recording of the ancient tales.\n\n\nSome men are renowned in history on account of the extraordinary\npowers and capacities which they exhibited in the course of their\ncareer, or the intrinsic greatness of the deeds which they performed.\nOthers, without having really achieved any thing in itself very great\nor wonderful, have become widely known to mankind by reason of the\nvast consequences which, in the subsequent course of events, resulted\nfrom their doings. Men of this latter class are conspicuous rather\nthan great. From among thousands of other men equally exalted in\ncharacter with themselves, they are brought out prominently to the\nnotice of mankind only in consequence of the strong light reflected,\nby great events subsequently occurring, back upon the position where\nthey happened to stand.\n\nThe celebrity of Romulus seems to be of this latter kind. He founded a\ncity. A thousand other men have founded cities; and in doing their\nwork have evinced perhaps as much courage, sagacity, and mental power\nas Romulus displayed. The city of Romulus, however, became in the end\nthe queen and mistress of the world. It rose to so exalted a position\nof influence and power, and retained its ascendency so long, that now\nfor twenty centuries every civilized nation in the western world have\nfelt a strong interest in every thing pertaining to its history, and\nhave been accustomed to look back with special curiosity to the\ncircumstances of its origin. In consequence of this it has happened\nthat though Romulus, in his actual day, performed no very great\nexploits, and enjoyed no pre-eminence above the thousand other\nhalf-savage chieftains of his class, whose names have been long\nforgotten, and very probably while he lived never dreamed of any\nextended fame, yet so brilliant is the illumination which the\nsubsequent events of history have shed upon his position and his\ndoings, that his name and the incidents of his life have been brought\nout very conspicuously to view, and attract very strongly the\nattention of mankind.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe history of Rome is usually made to begin with the story of AEneas.\nIn order that the reader may understand in what light that romantic\ntale is to be regarded, it is necessary to premise some statements in\nrespect to the general condition of society in ancient days, and to\nthe nature of the strange narrations, circulated in those early\nperiods among mankind, out of which in later ages, when the art of\nwriting came to be introduced, learned men compiled and recorded what\nthey termed history.\n\nThe countries which formed the shores of the Mediterranean sea were as\nverdant and beautiful, in those ancient days, and perhaps as fruitful\nand as densely populated as in modern times. The same Italy and Greece\nwere there then as now. There were the same blue and beautiful seas,\nthe same mountains, the same picturesque and enchanting shores, the\nsame smiling valleys, and the same serene and genial sky. The level\nlands were tilled industriously by a rural population corresponding\nin all essential points of character with the peasantry of modern\ntimes; and shepherds and herdsmen, then as now, hunted the wild\nbeasts, and watched their flocks and herds on the declivities of the\nmountains. In a word, the appearance of the face of nature, and the\nperformance of the great function of the social state, namely, the\nprocuring of food and clothing for man by the artificial cultivation\nof animal and vegetable life, were substantially the same on the\nshores of the Mediterranean two thousand years ago as now. Even the\nplants and the animals themselves which the ancient inhabitants\nreared, have undergone no essential change. Their sheep and oxen and\nhorses were the same as ours. So were their grapes, their apples, and\ntheir corn.\n\nIf, however, we leave the humbler classes and occupations of society,\nand turn our attention to those which represent the refinement, the\ncultivation, and the power, of the two respective periods, we shall\nfind that almost all analogy fails. There was an aristocracy then as\nnow, ruling over the widely extended communities of peaceful\nagriculturalists and herdsmen, but the members of it were entirely\ndifferent in their character, their tastes, their ideas, and their\noccupations from the classes which exercise the prerogatives of\ngovernment in Europe in modern times. The nobles then were military\nchieftains, living in camps or in walled cities, which they built for\nthe accommodation of themselves and their followers. These chieftains\nwere not barbarians. They were in a certain sense cultivated and\nrefined. They gathered around them in their camps and in their courts\norators, poets, statesmen, and officers of every grade, who seem to\nhave possessed the same energy, genius, taste, and in some respects\nthe same scientific skill, which have in all ages and in every clime\ncharacterized the upper classes of the Caucasian race. They carried\nall the arts which were necessary for their purposes and plans to high\nperfection, and in the invention of tales, ballads and poems, to be\nrecited at their entertainments and feasts, they evinced the most\nadmirable taste and skill;--a taste and skill which, as they resulted\nnot from the operation and influence of artificial rules, but from the\nunerring instinct of genius, have never been surpassed. In fact, the\npoetical inventions of those early days, far from having been\nproduced in conformity with rules, were entirely precedent to rules,\nin the order of time. Rules were formed from them; for they at length\nbecame established themselves in the estimation of mankind, as models,\nand on their authority as models, the whole theory of rhetorical and\npoetical beauty now mainly reposes.\n\nThe people of those days formed no idea of a spiritual world, or of a\nspiritual divinity. They however imagined, that heroes of former days\nstill continued to live and to reign in certain semi-heavenly regions\namong the summits of their blue and beautiful mountains, and that they\nwere invested there with attributes in some respects divine. In\naddition to these divinities, the fertile fancy of those ancient times\nfilled the earth, the air, the sea, and the sky with imaginary beings,\nall most graceful and beautiful in their forms, and poetical in their\nfunctions,--and made them the subjects, too, of innumerable legends\nand tales, as graceful, poetical, and beautiful as themselves. Every\ngrove, and fountain, and river,--every lofty summit among the\nmountains, and every rock and promontory along the shores of the\nsea,--every cave, every valley, every water-fall, had its imaginary\noccupant,--the genius of the spot; so that every natural object which\nattracted public notice at all, was the subject of some picturesque\nand romantic story. In a word, nature was not explored then as now,\nfor the purpose of ascertaining and recording cold and scientific\nrealities,--but to be admired, and embellished, and animated;--and to\nbe peopled, everywhere, with exquisitely beautiful, though imaginary\nand supernatural, life and action.\n\nWhat the genius of imagination and romance did thus in ancient times\nwith the scenery of nature, it did also on the field of history. Men\nexplored that field not at all to learn sober and actual realities,\nbut to find something that they might embellish and adorn, and animate\nwith supernatural and marvelous life. What the sober realities might\nhave actually been, was of no interest or moment to them whatever.\nThere were no scholars then as now, living in the midst of libraries,\nand finding constant employment, and a never-ending pleasure, in\nresearches for the simple investigation of the truth. There was in\nfact no retirement, no seclusion, no study. Every thing except what\nrelated to the mere daily toil of tilling the ground bore direct\nrelation to military expeditions, spectacles and parades; and the only\nfield for the exercise of that kind of intellectual ability which is\nemployed in modern times in investigating and recording historic\ntruth, was the invention and recitation of poems, dramas and tales, to\namuse great military audiences in camps or public gatherings, convened\nto witness shows or games, or to celebrate great religious festivals.\nOf course under such circumstances there would be no interest felt in\ntruth as truth. Romance and fable would be far more serviceable for\nsuch ends than reality.\n\nStill it is obvious that such tales as were invented to amuse for the\npurposes we have described, would have a deeper interest for those who\nlistened to them, if founded in some measure upon fact, and connected\nin respect to the scene of their occurrence, with real localities. A\nprince and his court sitting at their tables in the palace or the\ntent, at the close of a feast, would listen with greater interest to a\nstory that purported to be an account of the deeds and the marvelous\nadventures of their own ancestors, than to one that was wholly and\navowedly imaginary. The inventors of these tales would of course\ngenerally choose such subjects, and their narrations would generally\nconsist therefore rather of embellishments of actual transactions,\nthan of inventions wholly original. Their heroes were consequently\nreal men; the principal actions ascribed to them were real actions,\nand the places referred to were real localities. Thus there was a\nsemblance of truth and reality in all these tales which added greatly\nto the interest of them; while there were no means of ascertaining the\nreal truth, and thus spoiling the story by making the falsehood or\nimprobability of it evident and glaring.\n\nWe cannot well have a better illustration of these principles than is\nafforded by the story of Cadmus, an adventurer who was said to have\nbrought the knowledge of alphabetic writing into Greece from some\ncountries farther eastward. In modern times there is a very strong\ninterest felt in ascertaining the exact truth on this subject. The art\nof writing with alphabetic characters was so great an invention, and\nit has exerted so vast an influence on the condition and progress of\nmankind since it was introduced, that a very strong interest is now\nfelt in every thing that can be ascertained as actually fact, in\nrespect to its origin. If it were possible now to determine under what\ncircumstances the method of representing the elements of sound by\nwritten characters was first devised, to discover who it was that\nfirst conceived the idea, and what led him to make the attempt, what\ndifficulties he encountered, to what purposes he first applied his\ninvention, and to what results it led, the whole world would take a\nvery strong interest in the revelation. The essential point, however,\nto be observed, is that it is the _real truth_ in respect to the\nsubject that the world are now interested in knowing. Were a romance\nwriter to invent a tale in respect to the origin of writing, however\ningenious and entertaining it might be in its details, it would excite\nin the learned world at the present day no interest whatever.\n\nThere is in fact no account at present existing in respect to the\nactual origin of alphabetic characters, though there is an account of\nthe circumstances under which the art was brought into Europe from\nAsia, where it seems to have been originally invented. We will give\nthe facts, first in their simple form, and then the narrative in the\nform in which it was related in ancient times, as embellished by the\nancient story-tellers.\n\nThe facts then, as now generally understood and believed, are, that\nthere was a certain king in some country in Africa, named Agenor, who\nlived about 1500 years before Christ. He had a daughter named Europa,\nand several sons. Among his sons was one named Cadmus. Europa was a\nbeautiful girl, and after a time a wandering adventurer from some part\nof the northern shores of the Mediterranean sea, came into Africa, and\nwas so much pleased with her that he resolved if possible, to obtain\nher for his wife. He did not dare to make proposals openly, and he\naccordingly disguised himself and mingled with the servants upon\nAgenor's farm. In this disguise he succeeded in making acquaintance\nwith Europa, and finally persuaded her to elope with him. The pair\naccordingly fled, and crossing the Mediterranean they went to Crete,\nan island near the northern shores of the sea, and there they lived\ntogether.\n\nThe father, when he found that his daughter had deceived him and gone\naway, was very indignant, and sent Cadmus and his brothers in pursuit\nof her. The mother of Europa, whose name was Telephassa, though less\nindignant perhaps than the father, was overwhelmed with grief at the\nloss of her child, and determined to accompany her sons in the search.\nShe accordingly took leave of her husband and of her native land, and\nset out with Cadmus and her other sons on the long journey in search\nof her lost child. Agenor charged his sons never to come home again\nunless they brought Europa with them.\n\nCadmus, with his mother and brothers, traveled slowly toward the\nnorthward, along the eastern shores of the Mediterranean sea,\ninquiring everywhere for the fugitive. They passed through Syria and\nPhenicia, into Asia Minor, and from Asia Minor into Greece. At length\nTelephassa, worn down, perhaps, by fatigue, disappointment, and grief,\ndied. Cadmus and his brothers soon after became discouraged; and at\nlast, weary with their wanderings, and prevented by their father's\ninjunction from returning without Europa, they determined to settle in\nGreece. In attempting to establish themselves there, however, they\nbecame involved in various conflicts, first with wild beasts, and\nafterward with men, the natives of the land, who seemed to spring up,\nas it were, from the ground, to oppose them. They contrived, however,\nat length, by fomenting quarrels among their enemies, and taking sides\nwith one party against the rest, to get a permanent footing in Greece,\nand Cadmus finally founded a city there, which he called Thebes.\n\nIn establishing the institutions and government of Thebes, and in\narranging the organization of the people into a social state, Cadmus\nintroduced among them several arts, which, in that part of the\ncountry, had been before unknown. One of these arts was the use of\ncopper, which metal he taught his new subjects to procure from the ore\nobtained in mines. There were several others; but the most important\nof all was that he taught them sixteen letters representing elementary\nvocal sounds, by means of which inscriptions of words could be carved\nupon monuments, or upon tablets of metal or of stone.\n\nIt is not supposed that the idea of representing the elements of vocal\nsounds by characters _originated_ with Cadmus, or that he invented the\ncharacters himself. He brought them with him undoubtedly, but whether\nfrom Egypt or Phenicia, can not now be known.\n\nSuch are the facts of the case, as now generally understood and\nbelieved. Let us now compare this simple narration with the romantic\ntale which the early story-tellers made from it. The legend, as they\nrelate it, is as follows.\n\nJupiter was a prince born and bred among the summits of Mount Ida, in\nCrete. His father's name was Saturn. Saturn had made an agreement that\nhe would cause all his sons to be slain, as soon as they were born.\nThis was to appease his brother, who was his rival, and who consented\nthat Saturn should continue to reign only on that condition.\n\nJupiter's mother, however, was very unwilling that her boys should be\nthus cruelly put to death, and she contrived to conceal three of them,\nand save them. The three thus preserved were brought up among the\nsolitudes of the mountains, watched and attended by nymphs, and nursed\nby a goat. After they grew up, they engaged from time to time in\nvarious wars, and met with various wonderful adventures, until at\nlength Jupiter, the oldest of them, succeeded, by means of\nthunderbolts which he caused to be forged for his use, in vast\nsubterranean caverns beneath Mount Etna and Mount Vesuvius, conquered\nall his enemies, and became universal king. He, however, divided his\nempire between himself and his brothers, giving to them respectively\nthe command of the sea and of the subterranean regions, while he\nreserved the earth and the heavenly regions for himself.\n\n[Illustration: JUPITER AND EUROPA.]\n\nHe established his usual abode among the mountains of Northern Greece,\nbut he often made excursions to and fro upon the earth, appearing in\nvarious disguises, and meeting with a great number of strange and\nmarvelous adventures. In the course of these wanderings he found his\nway at one time into Egypt, and to the dominions of Agenor,--and there\nhe saw Agenor's beautiful daughter, Europa. He immediately determined\nto make her his bride; and to secure this object he assumed the form\nof a very finely shaped and beautiful bull, and in this guise joined\nhimself to Agenor's herds of cattle. Europa soon saw him there. She\nwas much pleased with the beauty of his form, and finding him gentle\nand kind in disposition, she approached him, patted his glossy neck\nand sides, and in other similar ways gratified the prince by marks of\nher admiration and pleasure. She was at length induced by some secret\nand magical influence which the prince exerted over her, to mount upon\nhis back, and allow herself to be borne away. The bull ran with his\nburden to the shore, and plunged into the waves. He swam across the\nsea to Crete,[A] and there, resuming his proper form, he made the\nprincess his bride.\n\n[Footnote A: See Map, p. 30.]\n\nAgenor and Telephassa, when they found that their daughter was gone,\nwere in great distress, and Agenor immediately determined to send his\nsons on an expedition in pursuit of her. The names of his sons were\nCadmus, Phoenix, Cylix, Thasus, and Phineus. Cadmus, as the oldest\nson, was to be the director of the expedition. Telephassa, the mother,\nresolved to accompany them, so overwhelmed was she with affliction at\nthe loss of her daughter. Agenor himself was almost equally oppressed\nwith the calamity which had over whelmed them, and he charged his sons\nnever to come home again until they could bring Europa with them.\n\nTelephassa and her sons wandered for a time in the countries east of\nthe Mediterranean sea, without being able to obtain any tidings of the\nfugitive. At length they passed into Asia Minor, and from Asia Minor\ninto Thrace, a country lying north of the Egean Sea. Finding no traces\nof their sister in any of these countries, the sons of Agenor became\ndiscouraged, and resolved to make no farther search; and Telephassa,\nexhausted with anxiety and fatigue, and now overwhelmed with the\nthought that all hope must be finally abandoned, sank down and died.\n\n[Illustration: THE JOURNEYING OF CADMUS.]\n\nCadmus and his brothers were much affected at their mother's death.\nThey made arrangements for her burial, in a manner befitting her high\nrank and station, and when the funeral solemnities had been performed,\nCadmus repaired to the oracle at Delphi, which was situated in the\nnorthern part of Greece, not very far from Thrace, in order that he\nmight inquire there whether there was any thing more that he could do\nto recover his lost sister, and if so to learn what course he was to\npursue. The oracle replied to him that he must search for his sister\nno more, but instead of it turn his attention wholly to the work of\nestablishing a home and a kingdom for himself, in Greece. To this end\nhe was to travel on in a direction indicated, until he met with a cow\nof a certain kind, described by the oracle, and then to follow the cow\nwherever she might lead the way, until at length, becoming fatigued,\nshe should stop and lie down. Upon the spot where the cow should lie\ndown he was to build a city and make it his capital.\n\nCadmus obeyed these directions of the oracle. He left Delphi and went\non, attended, as he had been in all his wanderings, by a troop of\ncompanions and followers, until at length in the herds of one of the\npeople of the country, named Pelagon, he found a cow answering to the\ndescription of the oracle. Taking this cow for his guide, he followed\nwherever she led the way. She conducted him toward the southward and\neastward for thirty or forty miles, and at length wearied apparently,\nby her long journey, she lay down. Cadmus knew immediately that this\nwas the spot where his city was to stand.\n\nHe began immediately to make arrangements for the building of the\ncity, but he determined first to offer the cow that had been his\ndivinely appointed guide to the spot, as a sacrifice to Minerva, whom\nhe always considered as his guardian goddess.\n\nNear the spot where the cow lay down there was a small stream which\nissued from a fountain not far distant, called the fountain of Dirce.\nCadmus sent some of his men to the place to obtain some water which it\nwas necessary to use in the ceremonies of the sacrifice. It happened,\nhowever, that this fountain was a sacred one, having been consecrated\nto Mars,--and there was a great dragon, a son of Mars, stationed there\nto guard it. The men whom Cadmus sent did not return, and accordingly\nCadmus himself, after waiting a suitable time, proceeded to the spot\nto ascertain the cause of the delay. He found that the dragon had\nkilled his men, and at the time when he arrived at the spot, the\nmonster was greedily devouring the bodies. Cadmus immediately\nattacked the dragon and slew him, and then tore his teeth out of his\nhead, as trophies of his victory. Minerva had assisted Cadmus in this\ncombat, and when it was ended she directed him to plant the teeth of\nthe dragon in the ground. Cadmus did so, and immediately a host of\narmed men sprung up from the place where he had planted them. Cadmus\nthrew a stone among these armed men, when they immediately began to\ncontend together in a desperate conflict, until at length all but five\nof them were slain. These five then joined themselves to Cadmus, and\nhelped him to build his city.\n\nHe went on very successfully after this. The city which he built was\nThebes, which afterward became greatly celebrated. The citadel which\nhe erected within, he called, from his own name, Cadmia.\n\nSuch were the legends which were related in ancient poems and tales;\nand it is obvious that such narratives must have been composed to\nentertain groups of listeners whose main desire was to be excited and\namused, and not to be instructed. The stories were believed, no doubt,\nand the faith which the hearer felt in their truth added of course\nvery greatly to the interest which they awakened in his mind. The\nstories are _amusing_ to us; but it is impossible for us to share in\nthe deep and solemn emotion with which the ancient audiences listened\nto them, for we have not the power, as they had, of believing them.\nSuch tales related in respect to the great actors on the stage in\nmodern times, would awaken no interest, for there is too general a\ndiffusion both of historical and philosophical knowledge to render it\npossible for any one to suppose them to be true. But those for whom\nthe story of Europa was invented, had no means of knowing how wide the\nMediterranean sea might be, and whether a bull might not swim across\nit. They did not know but that Mars might have a dragon for a son, and\nthat the teeth of such a dragon might not, when sown in the ground,\nspring up in the form of a troop of armed men. They listened therefore\nto the tale with an interest all the more earnest and solemn on\naccount of the marvelousness of the recital. They repeated it word for\nword to one another, around their camp-fires, at their feasts, in\ntheir journeyings,--and when watching their flocks at midnight, among\nthe solitudes of the mountains. Thus the tales were handed down from\ngeneration to generation, until at length the use of the letters of\nCadmus became so far facilitated, that continuous narrations could be\nexpressed by means of them; and then they were put permanently upon\nrecord in many forms, and were thus transmitted without any farther\nchange to the present age.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nCADMUS'S LETTERS.\n\nB.C. 1500\n\nTwo modes of writing.--Symbols.--Example.--Symbol of the Deity.--Ancient\nsymbols.--The Egyptian hieroglyphics phonetic.--Natural\nsymbols.--Mexican record.--Arbitrary symbols.--Advantages of the\nsymbolical mode of writing.--The meaning of them more easily\nunderstood.--Comparison of the two systems.--Further comparison of the\ntwo systems.--Two modes of representing the idea of a battle.--Great\nadvantages of the phonetic mode of writing.--Uncertainty of the origin\nof phonetic writing.--Cadmus's alphabet.--Difficulties attending the\nintroduction of it.--Different modes of writing.--The art of writing at\nfirst very little used.--Proofs of this.--Story of the lots.--Other\ninstances.--The invention of papyrus.--Mode of manufacturing\npapyrus.--Volumes.--Mode of using ancient books.--Ink.--Ink found at\nHerculaneum.--Recent discoveries in respect to the Egyptian\nhieroglyphics.--Specimen of Egyptian hieroglyphics.--Explanation of\nthe figures.--Moses in Egypt.--Importance of the art of writing.\n\n\nThere are two modes essentially distinct from each other, by which\nideas may be communicated through the medium of inscriptions addressed\nto the eye. These two modes are, first, by _symbolical_, and secondly,\nby _phonetic_ characters. Each of these two systems assumes, in fact,\nwithin itself, quite a variety of distinct forms, though it is only\nthe general characteristics which distinguish the two great classes\nfrom each other, that we shall have occasion particularly to notice\nhere.\n\n[Illustration: SYMBOLICAL WRITING]\n\nSymbolical writing consists of characters intended severally to denote\n_ideas_ or _things_, and not words. A good example of true symbolical\nwriting is to be found in a certain figure often employed among the\narchitectural decorations of churches, as an emblem of the Deity. It\nconsists of a triangle representing the Trinity with the figure of an\neye in the middle of it. The eye is intended to denote the divine\nomniscience. Such a character as this, is obviously the symbol of an\nidea, not the representative of a word. It may be read Jehovah, or\nGod, or the Deity, or by any other word or phrase by which men are\naccustomed to denote the Supreme Being. It represents, in fine, the\nidea, and not any particular word by which the idea is expressed.\n\nThe first attempts of men to preserve records of facts by means of\ninscriptions, have, in all ages, and among all nations, been of this\ncharacter. At first, the inscriptions so made were strictly pictures,\nin which the whole scene intended to be commemorated was represented,\nin rude carvings. In process of time substitutions and abridgments\nwere adopted in lieu of full representations, and these grew at length\ninto a system of hieroglyphical characters, some natural, and others\nmore or less arbitrary, but all denoting _ideas_ or _things_, and not\nthe sounds of words. These characters are of the kind usually\nunderstood by the word hieroglyphics; though that word can not now\nwith strict accuracy be applied as a distinctive appellation, since it\nhas been ascertained in modern times that a large portion of the\nEgyptian hieroglyphics are of such a nature as brings them within the\nsecond of the two classes which we are here describing, that is, the\nseveral delineations represent the sounds and syllables of words,\ninstead of being symbols of ideas or things.\n\nIt happened that in some cases in this species of writing, as used in\nancient times, the characters which were employed presented in their\nform some natural resemblance to the thing signified, and in other\ncases they were wholly arbitrary. Thus, the figure of a scepter\ndenoted a king, that of a lion, strength; and two warriors, one with a\nshield, and the other advancing toward the first with a bow and arrow,\nrepresented a battle. We use in fact a symbol similar to the\nlast-mentioned one at the present day, upon maps, where we often see a\ncharacter formed by two swords crossed, employed to represent a\nbattle.\n\nThe ancient Mexicans had a mode of writing which seems to have been\nsymbolical in its character, and their characters had, many of them\nat least, a natural signification. The different cities and towns were\nrepresented by drawings of such simple objects as were characteristic\nof them respectively; as a plant, a tree, an article of manufacture,\nor any other object by which the place in question was most easily and\nnaturally to be distinguished from other places. In one of their\ninscriptions, for example, there was a character representing a king,\nand before it four heads. Each of the heads was accompanied by the\nsymbol of the capital of a province, as above described. The meaning\nof the whole inscription was that in a certain tumult or insurrection\nthe king caused the governors of the four cities to be beheaded.\n\nBut though, in this symbolical mode of writing, a great many ideas and\nevents could be represented thus, by means of signs or symbols having\na greater or less resemblance to the thing signified, yet in many\ncases the characters used were wholly arbitrary. They were in this\nrespect like the character which we use to denote _dollars_, as a\nprefix to a number expressing money; for this character is a sort of\nsymbol, that is, it represents a thing rather than a word. Our\nnumerals, too, 1, 2, 3, &c., are in some respects of the character of\nsymbols. That is, they stand directly for the numbers themselves, and\nnot for the sounds of the words by which the numbers are expressed.\nHence, although the people of different European nations understand\nthem all alike, they read them, in words, very differently. The\nEnglishman reads them by one set of words, the Spaniard by another,\nand the German and the Italian by others still.\n\nThe symbolical mode of writing possesses some advantages which must\nnot be overlooked. It speaks directly to the eye, and is more full of\nmeaning than the Phonetic method, though the meaning is necessarily\nmore vague and indistinct, in some respects, while it is less so in\nothers. For example, in an advertising newspaper, the simple figure of\na house, or of a ship, or of a locomotive engine, at the head of an\nadvertisement, is a sort of hieroglyphic, which says much more plainly\nand distinctly, and in much shorter time, than any combination of\nletters could do, that what follows it is an advertisement relating to\na house, or a vessel, or a railroad. In the same manner, the ancient\nrepresentations on monuments and columns would communicate, perhaps\nmore rapidly and readily to the passer-by, an idea of the battles, the\nsieges, the marches, and the other great exploits of the monarchs\nwhose history they were intended to record, than an inscription in\nwords would have done.\n\nAnother advantage of the symbolical representations as used in ancient\ntimes, was that their meaning could be more readily explained, and\nwould be more easily remembered, and so explained again, than written\nwords. To learn to read literal writing in any language, is a work of\nvery great labor. It is, in fact, generally found that it must be\ncommenced early in life, or it can not be accomplished at all. An\ninscription, therefore, in words, on a Mexican monument, that a\ncertain king suppressed an insurrection, and beheaded the governors of\nfour of his provinces, would be wholly blind and unintelligible to the\nmass of the population of such a country; and if the learned sculptor\nwho inscribed it, were to attempt to explain it to them, letter by\nletter, they would forget the beginning of the lesson before reaching\nthe end of it,--and could never be expected to attempt extending the\nknowledge by making known the interpretation which they had received\nto others in their turn. But the royal scepter, with the four heads\nbefore it, each of the heads accompanied by the appropriate symbol of\nthe city to which the possessor of it belonged, formed a symbolical\ncongeries which expressed its meaning at once, and very plainly, to\nthe eye. The most ignorant and uncultivated could readily understand\nit. Once understanding it, too, they could never easily forget it; and\nthey could, without any difficulty, explain it fully to others as\nignorant and uncultivated as themselves.\n\nIt might seem, at first view, that a symbolical mode of writing must\nbe more simple in its character than the system now in use, inasmuch\nas by that plan each idea or object would be expressed by one\ncharacter alone, whereas, by our mode of writing, several characters,\nsometimes as many as eight or ten, are required to express a word,\nwhich word, after all, represents only one single object or idea. But\nnotwithstanding this apparent simplicity, the system of symbolical\nwriting proved to be, when extensively employed, extremely complicated\nand intricate. It is true that each idea required but one character,\nbut the number of ideas and objects, and of words expressive of their\nrelations to one another, is so vast, that the system of representing\nthem by independent symbols, soon lost itself in an endless intricacy\nof detail. Then, besides,--notwithstanding what has been said of the\nfacility with which symbolical inscriptions could be\ninterpreted,--they were, after all, extremely difficult to be\nunderstood without interpretation. An inscription once explained, the\nexplanation was easily understood and remembered; but it was very\ndifficult to understand one intended to express any new communication.\nThe system was, therefore, well adapted to commemorate what was\nalready known, but was of little service as a mode of communicating\nknowledge anew.\n\n[Illustration: SYMBOLICAL AND PHONETIC WRITING]\n\nWe come now to consider the second grand class of written characters,\nnamely, the _phonetic_, the class which Cadmus introduced into Greece,\nand the one almost universally adopted among all the European nations\nat the present day. It is called Phonetic, from a Greek word denoting\n_sound_, because the characters which are used do not denote directly\nthe thing itself which is signified, but the sounds made in speaking\nthe word which signifies it. Take, for instance, the two modes of\nrepresenting a conflict between two contending armies, one by the\nsymbolic delineation of two swords crossed, and the other by the\nphonetic delineation of the letters of the word battle. They are both\ninscriptions. The beginning of the first represents the handle of the\nsword, a part, as it were, of the thing signified. The beginning of\nthe second, the letter _b_, represents the pressing of the lips\ntogether, by which we commence pronouncing the word. Thus the one mode\nis _symbolical_, and the other _phonetic_.\n\nOn considering the two methods, as exemplified in this simple\ninstance, we shall observe that what has already been pointed out as\ncharacteristic of the two modes is here seen to be true. The idea is\nconveyed in the symbolical mode by one character, while by the\nphonetic it requires no less than six. This seems at first view to\nindicate a great advantage possessed by the symbolical system. But on\nreflection this advantage is found entirely to disappear. For the\nsymbolical character, though it is only one, will answer for only the\nsingle idea which it denotes. Neither itself nor any of its elements\nwill aid us in forming a symbol for any other idea; and as the ideas,\nobjects, and relations which it is necessary to be able to express, in\norder to make free and full communications in any language, are from\nfifty to a hundred thousand,--the step which we have taken, though\nvery simple in itself, is the beginning of a course which must lead to\nthe most endless intricacy and complication. Whereas in the six\nphonetic characters of the word battle, we have elements which can be\nused again and again, in the expression of thousands of other ideas.\nIn fact, as the phonetic characters which are found necessary in most\nlanguages are only about twenty-four, we have in that single word\naccomplished one quarter of the whole task, so far as the delineation\nof characters is concerned, that is necessary for expressing by\nwriting any possible combination of ideas which human language can\nconvey.\n\nAt what time and in what manner the transition was made among the\nancient nations from the symbolic to the phonetic mode of writing, is\nnot now known. When in the flourishing periods of the Grecian and\nRoman states, learned men explored the literary records of the various\nnations of the East, writings were found in all, which were expressed\nin phonetic characters, and the alphabets of these characters were\nfound to be so analogous to each other, in the names and order, and in\nsome respects in the forms, of the letters, as to indicate strongly\nsomething like community of origin. All the attempts, however, which\nhave been made to ascertain the origin of the system, have wholly\nfailed, and no account of them goes farther back than to the time when\nCadmus brought them from Phenicia or Egypt into Greece.\n\nThe letters which Cadmus brought were in number sixteen. The following\ntable presents a view of his alphabet, presenting in the several\ncolumns, the letters themselves as subsequently written in Greece, the\nGreek names given to them, and their power as represented by the\nletters now in use. The forms, it will be seen, have been but little\nchanged.\n\n Greek letters.    Greek names.    English representatives.\n\n [Greek: A]          Alpha                 A\n [Greek: B]          Beta                  B\n [Greek: G]          Gamma                 G\n [Greek: D]          Delta                 D\n [Greek: E]          Epsilon               E\n [Greek: I]          Iota                  I\n [Greek: L]          Lamda                 L\n [Greek: K]          Kappa                 K\n [Greek: M]          Mu                    M\n [Greek: N]          Nu                    N\n [Greek: O]          Omicron               O\n [Greek: P]          Pi                    P\n [Greek: R]          Rho                   R\n [Greek: S]          Sigma                 S\n [Greek: T]          Tau                   T\n [Greek: U]          Upsilon               U\n\nThe phonetic alphabet of Cadmus, though so vastly superior to any\nsystem of symbolical hieroglyphics, for all purposes where any thing\nlike verbal accuracy was desired, was still very slow in coming into\ngeneral use. It was of course, at first, very difficult to write it,\nand very difficult to read it when written. There was a very great\npractical obstacle, too, in the way of its general introduction, in\nthe want of any suitable materials for writing. To cut letters with a\nchisel and a mallet upon a surface of marble is a very slow and\ntoilsome process. To diminish this labor the ancients contrived tables\nof brass, copper, lead, and sometimes of wood, and cut the\ninscriptions upon them by the use of various tools and implements.\nStill it is obvious, that by such methods as these the art of writing\ncould only be used to an extremely limited extent, such as for brief\ninscriptions in registers and upon monuments, where a very few words\nwould express all that it was necessary to record.\n\nIn process of time, however, the plan of _painting_ the letters by\nmeans of a black dye upon a smooth surface, was introduced. The\nsurface employed to receive these inscriptions was, at first, the skin\nof some animal prepared for this purpose, and the dye used for ink,\nwas a colored liquid obtained from a certain fish. This method of\nwriting, though in some respects more convenient than the others, was\nstill slow, and the materials were expensive; and it was a long time\nbefore the new art was employed for any thing like continuous\ncomposition. Cadmus is supposed to have come into Greece about the\nyear 1550 before Christ; and it was not until about 650 before\nChrist,--that is, nearly nine hundred years later, that the art of\nwriting was resorted to in Greece to record laws.\n\nThe evidences that writing was very little used in any way during this\nlong period of nine hundred years, are furnished in various allusions\ncontained in poems and narratives that were composed during those\ntimes, and committed to writing afterward. In the poems of Homer, for\ninstance, there is no allusion, from the beginning to the end, to any\nmonument or tomb containing any inscription whatever; although many\noccasions occur in which such inscriptions would have been made, if\nthe events described were real, and the art of writing had been\ngenerally known, or would have been imagined to be made, if the\nnarratives were invented. In one case a ship-master takes a cargo on\nboard, and he is represented as having to remember all the articles,\ninstead of making a record of them. Another case still more striking\nis adduced. In the course of the contest around the walls of Troy, the\nGrecian leaders are described at one time as drawing lots to determine\nwhich of them should fight a certain Trojan champion. The lots were\nprepared, being made of some substance that could be marked, and when\nready, were distributed to the several leaders. Each one of the\nleaders then marked his lot in some way, taking care to remember what\ncharacter he had made upon it. The lots were then all put into a\nhelmet, and the helmet was given to a herald, who was to shake it\nabout in such a manner, if possible, as to throw out one of the lots\nand leave the others in. The leader whose lot it was that should be\nthus shaken out, was to be considered as the one designated by the\ndecision, to fight the Trojan champion.\n\nNow, in executing this plan, the herald, when he had shaken out a lot,\nand had taken it up from the ground, is represented, in the narrative,\nas not knowing whose it was, and as carrying it around, accordingly,\nto all the different leaders, to find the one who could recognize it\nas his own. A certain chief named Ajax recognized it, and in this way\nhe was designated for the combat. Now it is supposed, that if these\nmen had been able to write, that they would have inscribed their own\nnames upon the lots, instead of marking them with unmeaning\ncharacters. And even if they were not practiced writers themselves\nsome secretary or scribe would have been called upon to act for them\non such an occasion as this, if the art of writing had been at that\ntime so generally known as to be customarily employed on public\noccasions. From these and similar indications which are found, on a\ncareful examination, in the Homeric poems, learned men have concluded\nthat they were composed and repeated orally, at a period of the world\nwhen the art of writing was very little known, and that they were\nhanded down from generation to generation, through the memory of those\nwho repeated them, until at last the art of writing became established\namong mankind, when they were at length put permanently upon record.\n\nIt seems that writing was not much employed for any of the ordinary\nand private purposes of life by the people of Greece until the article\ncalled _papyrus_ was introduced among them. This took place about the\nyear 600 before Christ, when laws began first to be written. Papyrus,\nlike the art of writing upon it, came originally from Egypt. It was\nobtained from a tree which it seems grew only in that country. The\ntree flourished in the low lands along the margin of the Nile. It\ngrew to the height of about ten feet. The paper obtained from it was\nformed from a sort of inner bark, which consisted of thin sheets or\npellicles growing around the wood. The paper was manufactured in the\nfollowing manner. A sheet of the thin bark as taken from the tree, was\nlaid flat upon a board, and then a cross layer was laid over it, the\nmaterials having been previously moistened with water made slightly\nglutinous. The sheet thus formed was pressed and dried in the sun. The\nplacing of two layers of the bark in this manner across each other was\nintended to strengthen the texture of the sheet, for the fibers, it\nwas found, were very easily separated and torn so long as they lay\nwholly in one direction. The sheet when dry was finished by smoothing\nthe surface, and prepared to receive inscriptions made by means of a\npen fashioned from a reed or a quill.\n\nIn forming the papyrus into books it was customary to use a long sheet\nor web of it, and roll it upon a stick, as is the custom in respect to\nmaps at the present day. The writing was in columns, each of which\nformed a sort of page, the reader holding the ends of the roll in his\ntwo hands, and reading at the part which was open between them. Of\ncourse, as he advanced, he continually unrolled on one side, and\nrolled up upon the other. Rolls of parchment were often made in the\nsame manner.\n\nThe term _volume_ used in respect to modern books, had its origin in\nthis ancient practice of writing upon long rolls. The modern practice\nis certainly much to be preferred, though the ancient one was far less\ninconvenient than might at first be supposed. The long sheet was\nrolled upon a wooden billet, which gave to the volume a certain\nfirmness and solidity, and afforded it great protection. The ends of\nthis roller projected beyond the edges of the sheet, and were\nterminated in knobs or bosses, which guarded in some measure the edges\nof the papyrus or of the parchment. The whole volume was also inclosed\nin a parchment case, on the outside of which the title of the work was\nconspicuously recorded. Many of these ancient rolls have been found at\nHerculaneum.\n\nFor ink, various colored liquids were used, generally black, but\nsometimes red and sometimes green. The black ink was sometimes\nmanufactured from a species of lampblack or ivory black, such as is\noften used in modern times for painting. Some specimens of the\ninkstands which were used in ancient times have been found at\nHerculaneum, and one of them contained ink, which though too thick to\nflow readily from the pen, it was still possible to write with. It was\nof about the consistence of oil.\n\nThese rolls of papyrus and parchment, however, were only used for\nimportant writings which it was intended permanently to preserve. For\nordinary occasions tablets of wax and other similar materials were\nused, upon which the writer traced the characters with the point of a\nsteel instrument called a _style_. The head of the style was smooth\nand rounded, so that any words which the writer wished to erase might\nbe obliterated by smoothing over again, with it, the wax on which they\nhad been written.\n\nSuch is a brief history of the rise and progress of the art of writing\nin the States of Greece. Whether the phonetic principle which Cadmus\nintroduced was brought originally from Egypt, or from the countries on\nthe eastern shore of the Mediterranean sea, can not now be\nascertained. It has generally been supposed among mankind, at least\nuntil within a recent period, that the art of phonetic writing did\nnot originate in Egypt, for the inscriptions on all the ancient\nmonuments in that country are of such a character that it has always\nbeen supposed that they were symbolical characters altogether, and\nthat no traces of any phonetic writing existed in that land. Within\nthe present century, however, the discovery has been made that a large\nportion of these hieroglyphics are phonetic in their character; and\nthat the learned world in attempting for so many centuries, in vain,\nto affix symbolical meanings to them, had been altogether upon the\nwrong track. The delineations, though they consist almost wholly of\nthe forms of plants and animals, and of other natural and artificial\nobjects, are not symbolical representations of ideas, but letters,\nrepresenting sounds and words. They are thus precisely similar, in\nprinciple, to the letters of Cadmus, though wholly different from them\nin form.\n\n[Illustration: SPECIMEN OF EGYPTIAN HIEROGLYPHICS.]\n\nTo enable the reader to obtain a clearer idea of the nature of this\ndiscovery, we give on the adjoining page some specimens of Egyptian\ninscriptions found in various parts of the country, and which are\ninterpreted to express the name Cleopatra, a very common name for\nprincesses of the royal line in Egypt during the dynasty of the\nPtolemy's. We mark the various figures forming the inscription, with\nthe letters which modern interpreters have assigned to them. It will\nbe seen that they all spell, rudely indeed, but yet tolerably\ndistinctly, the name CLEOPATRA.\n\nBy a careful examination of these specimens, it will be seen that the\norder of placing the letters, if such hieroglyphical characters can be\nso called, is not regular, and the letter _a_, which is denoted by a\nbird in some of the specimens, is represented differently in others.\nThere are also two characters at the close of each inscription which\nare not represented by any letter, the one being of the form of an\negg, and the other a semicircle. These last are supposed to denote the\nsex of the sovereign whose name they are connected with, as they are\nfound in many cases in inscriptions commemorative of princesses and\nqueens. They are accordingly specimens of _symbolic_ characters, while\nall the others in the name are phonetic.\n\nIt seems therefore not improbable that the principle of forming a\nwritten language by means of characters representing the sounds of\nwhich the words of the spoken language are composed, was of Egyptian\norigin; and that it was carried in very early times to the countries\non the eastern shore of the Mediterranean sea, and there improved upon\nby the adoption of a class of characters more simple than the\nhieroglyphics of Egypt, and of a form more convenient for a regular\nlinear arrangement in writing. Moses, who spent his early life in\nEgypt, and who was said to be learned in all the wisdom of the\nEgyptians, may have acquired the art of writing there.\n\nHowever this may be, and whatever may be the uncertainty which hangs\nover the early history of this art, one thing is certain, and that is,\nthat the discovery of the art of writing, including that of printing,\nwhich is only the consummation and perfection of it,--the art by which\nman can record language, and give life and power to the record to\nspeak to the eye permanently and forever--to go to every nation--to\naddress itself simultaneously to millions of minds, and to endure\nthrough all time, is by far the greatest discovery, in respect to the\nenlargement which it makes of human powers, that has ever been made.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE STORY OF AENEAS.\n\nB.C. 1200\n\nStory of AEneas remained long unwritten.--Mother of AEneas.--Her\norigin.--Early history of Venus.--Her magical powers.--Her children\nEros and Anteros.--She goes to Olympus.--Aphrodite's love for\nAnchises.--The golden apple.--The award of Paris.--Venus's residence\nat Mt. Ida.--Aphrodite's assumed character.--She leaves\nAnchises.--Childhood of AEneas.--The Trojan war.--Achilles.--AEneas\nengages in the war.--Story of Pandarus.--AEneas rescued by his\nmother.--Her magic vail.--Venus is wounded.--Iris conveys her\naway.--Single combat between AEneas and Achilles.--The charmed life\nof Achilles.--His shield.--The meeting of AEneas and Achilles on the\nfield.--The harangues of the combatants.--The battle begun.--Narrow\nescape.--Sudden termination of the combat.--The tales of the AEneid.\n\n\nBesides the intrinsic interest and importance of the facts stated in\nthe last chapter, to the student of history, there was a special\nreason for calling the attention of the reader to them here, that he\nmight know in what light the story of the destruction of Troy, and of\nthe wanderings of AEneas, the great ancestor of Romulus, which we now\nproceed to relate, is properly to be regarded. The events connected\nwith the destruction of Troy took place, if they ever occurred at all,\nabout the year _twelve hundred_ before Christ. Homer is supposed to\nhave lived and composed his poems about the year nine hundred; and the\nart of writing is thought to have been first employed for the purpose\nof recording continuous compositions, about the year six hundred. The\nstory of AEneas then, so far as it has any claims to historical truth,\nis a tale which was handed down by oral tradition, among story-tellers\nfor three hundred years, and then was clothed in verse, and handed\ndown in that form orally by the memory of the reciters of it, in\ngenerations successive for three hundred years more, before it was\nrecorded; and during the whole period of this transmission, the\ninterest felt in it was not the desire for ascertaining and\ncommunicating historic truth, but simply for entertaining companies of\nlisteners with the details of a romantic story. The story, therefore,\ncan not be relied upon as historically true; but it is no less\nimportant on that account, that all well-informed persons should know\nwhat it is.\n\nThe mother of AEneas (as the story goes), was a celebrated goddess. Her\nname was Aphrodite;[B] though among the Romans she afterward received\nthe name of Venus. Aphrodite was not born of a mother, like ordinary\nmortals, but sprang mysteriously and supernaturally from a foam which\ngathered on a certain occasion upon the surface of the sea. At the\ncommencement of her existence she crept out upon the shores of an\nisland that was near,--the island of Cythera,--which lies south of the\nPeloponnesus.\n\n[Footnote B: Pronounced in four syllables, Aph-ro-di-te.]\n\n[Illustration: ORIGIN OF VENUS.]\n\nShe was the goddess of love, of beauty, and of fruitfulness; and so\nextraordinary were the magical powers which were inherent from the\nbeginning, in her very nature, that as she walked along upon the sands\nof the shore, when she first emerged from the sea, plants and flowers\nof the richest verdure and beauty sprang up at her feet wherever she\nstepped. She was, besides, in her own person, inexpressibly beautiful;\nand in addition to the natural influence of her charms, she was endued\nwith the supernatural power of inspiring the sentiment of love in all\nwho beheld her.\n\nFrom Cythera the goddess made her way over by sea to Cyprus, where she\nremained for some time, amid the gorgeous and magnificent scenery of\nthat enchanting island. Here she had two children, beautiful boys.\nTheir names were Eros and Anteros. Each of these children remained\nperpetually a child, and Eros, in later times called Cupid, became the\ngod of \"love bestowed,\" while Anteros was the God of \"love returned.\"\nAfter this the mother and the boys roamed about the world,--now in the\nheavenly regions above, and now among mortals on the plains and in the\nvalleys below: they sometimes appeared openly, in their true forms,\nsometimes they assumed disguises, and sometimes they were wholly\ninvisible; but whether seen or unseen, they were always busy in\nperforming their functions--the mother inspiring everywhere, in the\nminds both of gods and men, the tenderest sentiments of beauty and\ndesire,--while Eros awakened love in the heart of one person for\nanother, and Anteros made it his duty to tease and punish those who\nthus became objects of affection, if they did not return the love.\n\nAfter some time, Aphrodite and her boys found their way to the\nheavenly regions of Mount Olympus, where the great divinities\nresided,[C] and there they soon produced great trouble, by enkindling\nthe flames of love in the hearts of the divinities themselves, causing\nthem, by her magic power, to fall in love not only with one another,\nbut also with mortal men and women on the earth below. In retaliation\nupon Aphrodite for this mischief, Jupiter, by his supreme power,\ninspired Aphrodite herself with a sentiment of love. The object of her\naffection was Anchises, a handsome youth, of the royal family of Troy,\nwho lived among the mountains of Ida, not far from the city.\n\n[Footnote C: See Map, page 61.]\n\nThe way in which it happened that the affection of Aphrodite turned\ntoward an inhabitant of Mount Ida was this. There had been at one time\na marriage among the divinities, and a certain goddess who had not\nbeen invited to the wedding, conceived the design of avenging herself\nfor the neglect, by provoking a quarrel among those who were there.\nShe, accordingly, caused a beautiful golden apple to be made, with an\ninscription marked upon it, \"FOR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL.\" This apple she\nthrew in among the guests assembled at the wedding. The goddesses all\nclaimed the prize, and a very earnest dispute arose among them in\nrespect to it. Jupiter sent the several claimants, under the charge\nof a special messenger, to Mount Ida, to a handsome and accomplished\nyoung shepherd there, named Paris--who was, in fact, a prince in\ndisguise--that they might exhibit themselves to him, and submit the\nquestion of the right to the apple to his award. The contending\ngoddesses appeared accordingly before Paris, and each attempted to\nbribe him to decide in her favor, by offering him some peculiar and\ntempting reward. Paris gave the apple to Aphrodite, and she was so\npleased with the result, that she took Paris under her special\nprotection, and made the solitudes of Mount Ida one of her favorite\nretreats.\n\nHere she saw and became acquainted with Anchises, who was, as has\nalready been said, a noble, or prince, by descent, though he had for\nsome time been dwelling away from the city, and among the mountains,\nrearing flocks and herds. Here Aphrodite saw him, and when Jupiter\ninspired her with a sudden susceptibility to the power of love, the\nshepherd Anchises was the object toward which her affections turned.\nShe accordingly went to Mount Ida, and giving herself up to him, she\nlived with him for some time among the mountains as his bride. AEneas\nwas their son.\n\nAphrodite did not, however, appear to Anchises in her true character,\nbut assumed, instead, the form and the disguise of a Phrygian\nprincess. Phrygia was a kingdom of Asia Minor, not very far from Troy.\nShe continued this disguise as long as she remained with Anchises at\nMount Ida; at length, however, she concluded to leave him, and to\nreturn to Olympus, and at her parting she made herself known. She,\nhowever, charged Anchises never to reveal to any person who she was,\ndeclaring that AEneas, whom she was going to leave with his father when\nshe went away, would be destroyed by a stroke of lightning from\nheaven, if the real truth in respect to his mother were ever revealed.\n\nWhen Aphrodite had gone, Anchises, having now no longer any one at\nhome to attend to the rearing of the child, send him to Dardanus, a\ncity to the northward of Troy, where he was brought up in the house of\nhis sister, the daughter of Anchises, who was married and settled\nthere. His having a sister old enough to be married, would seem to\nshow that youth was not one of the attractions of Anchises in\nAphrodite's eyes. AEneas remained with his sister until he was old\nenough to be of service in the care of flocks and herds, and then\nreturned again to his former residence among the pasturages of the\nmountains. His mother, though she had left him, did not forget her\nchild; but watched over him continually, and interposed directly to\naid or to protect him, whenever her aid was required by the occurrence\nof any emergency of difficulty or danger.\n\n[Illustration: AENEAS DEFENDING THE BODY OF PANDARUS.]\n\nAt length the Trojan war broke out. For a time, however, AEneas took no\npart in it. He was jealous of the attentions which Priam, the king of\nTroy, paid to other young men, and fancied that he himself was\noverlooked and that the services that he might render were\nundervalued. He remained, therefore, at his home among the mountains,\noccupying himself with his flocks and herds; and he might, perhaps,\nhave continued in these peaceful avocations to the end of the war, had\nit not been that Achilles, one of the most formidable of the Grecian\nleaders, in one of his forays in the country around Troy, in search of\nprovisions, came upon AEneas's territory, and attacked him while\ntending his flocks upon the mountain side. Achilles seized the\nflocks and herds, and drove AEneas and his fellow-herdsmen away. They\nwould, in fact, all have been killed, had not Aphrodite interposed to\nprotect her son and\nsave his life.\n\nThe loss of his flocks and herds, and the injury which he himself had\nreceived, aroused AEneas's indignation and anger against the Greeks. He\nimmediately raised an armed force of Dardanians, and thenceforth took\nan active part in the war. He became one of the most distinguished\namong the combatants, for his prowess and his bravery; and being\nalways assisted by his mother in his conflicts, and rescued by her\nwhen in danger, he performed prodigies of strength and valor.\n\nAt one time he pressed forward into the thickest of the battle to\nrescue a Trojan leader named Pandarus, who was beset by his foes and\nbrought into very imminent danger. AEneas did not succeed in saving his\nfriend. Pandarus was killed. AEneas, however, flew to the spot, and by\nmeans of the most extraordinary feats of strength and valor he drove\nthe Greeks away from the body. They attacked it on every side, but\nAEneas, wheeling around it, and fighting now on this side and now on\nthat, drove them all away. They retired to a little distance and then\nbegan to throw in a shower of spears and darts and arrows upon him.\nAEneas defended himself and the body of his friend from these missiles\nfor a time, with his shield. At length, however, he was struck in the\nthigh with a ponderous stone which one of the Greek warriors hurled at\nhim,--a stone so heavy that two men of ordinary strength would have\nbeen required to lift it. AEneas was felled to the ground by the blow.\nHe sank down, resting upon his arm, faint and dizzy, and being thus\nmade helpless would have immediately been overpowered and killed by\nhis assailants had not his mother interposed. She came immediately to\nrescue him. She spread her vail over him, which had the magic power of\nrendering harmless all blows which were aimed at what was covered by\nit, and then taking him up in her arms she bore him off through the\nmidst of his enemies unharmed. The swords, spears, and javelins which\nwere aimed at him were rendered powerless by the magic vail.\n\nAphrodite, however, flying thus with her wounded son, mother-like,\nleft herself exposed in her anxiety to protect him. Diomedes, the\nchief of the pursuers, following headlong on, aimed a lance at Venus\nherself. The lance struck Venus in the hand, and inflicted a very\nsevere and painful wound. It did not, however, stop her flight. She\npressed swiftly on, while Diomedes, satisfied with his revenge, gave\nup the pursuit, but called out to Aphrodite as she disappeared from\nview, bidding her learn from the lesson which he had given her that it\nwould be best for her thenceforth to remain in her own appropriate\nsphere, and not come down to the earth and interfere in the contests\nof mortal men.\n\nAphrodite, after conveying AEneas to a place of safety, fled, herself,\nfaint and bleeding, to the mountains, where, after ascending to the\nregion of mists and clouds, Iris, the beautiful goddess of the\nrainbow, came to her aid. Iris found her faint and pale from the loss\nof blood; she did all in her power to soothe and comfort the wounded\ngoddess, and then led her farther still among the mountains to a place\nwhere they found Mars, the god of war, standing with his chariot. Mars\nwas Aphrodite's brother. He took compassion upon his sister in her\ndistress, and lent Iris his chariot and horses, to convey Aphrodite\nhome. Aphrodite ascended into the chariot, and Iris took the reins;\nand thus they rode through the air to the mountains of Olympus. Here\nthe gods and goddesses of heaven gathered around their unhappy sister,\nbound up her wound, and expressed great sympathy for her in her\nsufferings, uttering at the same time many piteous complaints against\nthe merciless violence and inhumanity of men. Such is the ancient tale\nof AEneas and his mother.\n\nAt a later period in the history of the war, AEneas had a grand combat\nwith Achilles, who was the most terrible of all the Grecian warriors,\nand was regarded as the grand champion of their cause. The two armies\nwere drawn up in battle array. A vast open space was left between them\non the open plain. Into this space the two combatants advanced, AEneas\non the one side and Achilles on the other, in full view of all the\ntroops, and of the throngs of spectators assembled to witness the\nproceedings.\n\nA very strong and an universal interest was felt in the approaching\ncombat. AEneas, besides the prodigious strength and bravery for which\nhe was renowned, was to be divinely aided, it was known, by the\nprotection of his mother, who was always at hand to guide and support\nhim in the conflict, and to succor him in danger. Achilles, on the\nother hand, possessed a charmed life. He had been dipped by his mother\nThetis, when an infant, in the river Styx, to render him invulnerable\nand immortal; and the immersion produced the effect intended in\nrespect to all those parts of the body which the water laved. As, how\never, Thetis held the child by the ankles when she plunged him in, the\nankles remained unaffected by the magic influence of the water. All\nthe other parts of the body were rendered incapable of receiving a\nwound.\n\nAchilles had a very beautiful and costly shield which his mother had\ncaused to be made for him. It was formed of five plates of metal. The\noutermost plates on each side were of brass; in the centre was a plate\nof gold; and between the central plate of gold and the outer ones of\nbrass were two other plates, one on each side, made of some third\nmetal. The workmanship of this shield was of the most elaborate and\nbeautiful character. The mother of Achilles had given this weapon to\nher son when he left home to join the Greeks in the Trojan war, not\ntrusting entirely it seems to his magical invulnerability.\n\nThe armies looked on with great interest as these two champions\nadvanced to meet each other, while all the gods and goddesses surveyed\nthe scene with almost equal interest, from their abodes above. Some\njoined Venus in the sympathy which she felt for her son, while others\nespoused the cause of Achilles. When the two combatants had approached\neach other, they paused before commencing the conflict, as is usual in\nsuch cases, and surveyed each other with looks of anger and defiance.\nAt length Achilles spoke. He began to upbraid AEneas for his\ninfatuation and folly in engaging in the war, and especially for\ncoming forward to put his life at hazard by encountering such a\nchampion as was now before him. \"What can you gain,\" said he, \"even if\nyou conquer in this warfare? You can never be king, even if you\nsucceed in saving the city. I know you claim to be descended from the\nroyal line; but Priam has sons who are the direct and immediate heirs,\nand your claims can never be allowed. Then, besides, what folly to\nattempt to contend with me! Me, the strongest, bravest, and most\nterrible of the Greeks, and the special favorite of many deities.\"\nWith this introduction Achilles went on to set forth the greatness of\nhis pedigree, and the loftiness of his pretensions to superiority over\nall others in personal prowess and valor, in a manner very eloquent\nindeed, and in a style which it seems was very much admired in those\ndays as evincing only a proper spirit and energy,--though in our times\nsuch a harangue would be very apt to be regarded as only a\nvainglorious and empty boasting.\n\nAEneas replied,--retorting with vauntings on his side no less spirited\nand energetic than those which Achilles had expressed. He gave a long\naccount of his pedigree, and of his various claims to lofty\nconsideration. He, however, said, in conclusion, that it was idle and\nuseless for them to waste their time in such a war of words, and so he\nhurled his spear at Achilles with all his force, as a token of the\ncommencement of the battle.\n\nThe spear struck the shield of Achilles, and impinged upon it with\nsuch force that it penetrated through two of the plates of metal which\ncomposed the shield, and reached the central plate of gold, where the\nforce with which it had been thrown being spent, it was arrested and\nfell to the ground. Achilles then exerting his utmost strength threw\nhis spear in return. AEneas crouched down to avoid the shock of the\nweapon, holding his shield at the same time above his head, and\nbracing himself with all his force against the approaching concussion.\nThe spear struck the shield near the upper edge of it, as it was held\nin AEneas's hands. It passed directly through the plates of which the\nshield was composed, and then continuing its course, it glided down\njust over AEneas's back, and planted itself deep in the ground behind\nhim, and stood there quivering. AEneas crept out from beneath it with a\nlook of horror.\n\nImmediately after throwing his spear, and perceiving that it had\nfailed of its intended effect, Achilles drew his sword and rushed\nforward to engage AEneas, hand to hand. AEneas himself recovering in an\ninstant from the consternation which his narrow escape from impalement\nhad awakened, seized an enormous stone, heavier, as Homer represents\nit, than any two ordinary men could lift, and was about to hurl it at\nhis advancing foe, when suddenly the whole combat was terminated by a\nvery unexpected interposition. It seems that the various gods and\ngoddesses, from their celestial abodes among the summits of Olympus,\nhad assembled in invisible forms to witness this combat--some\nsympathizing with and upholding one of the combatants, and some the\nother. Neptune was on AEneas's side; and accordingly when he saw how\nimminent the danger was which threatened AEneas, when Achilles came\nrushing upon him with his uplifted sword, he at once resolved to\ninterfere. He immediately rushed, himself, between the combatants. He\nbrought a sudden and supernatural mist over the scene, such as the God\nof the Sea has always at his command; and this mist at once concealed\nAEneas from Achilles's view. Neptune drew the spear out of the ground,\nand released it too from the shield which remained still pinned down\nby it; and then threw the spear down at Achilles's feet. He next\nseized AEneas, and lifting him high above the ground he bore him away\nin an invisible form over the heads of soldiers and horsemen that had\nbeen drawn up in long lines around the field of combat. When the mist\npassed away Achilles saw his spear lying at his feet, and on looking\naround him found that his enemy was gone.\n\nSuch are the marvelous tales which were told by the ancient narrators,\nof the prowess and exploits of AEneas under the walls of Troy, and of\nthe interpositions which were put forth to save him in moments of\ndesperate danger, by beings supernatural and divine. These tales were\nin those days believed as sober history. That which was marvelous and\nphilosophically incredible in them, was sacredly sheltered from\nquestion by mingling itself with the prevailing principles of\nreligious faith. The tales were thus believed, and handed down\ntraditionally from generation to generation, and admired and loved by\nall who heard and repeated them, partly on account of their romantic\nand poetical beauty, and partly on account of the sublime and sacred\nrevelations which they contained, in respect to the divinities of the\nspiritual world.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE DESTRUCTION OF TROY.\n\nB.C. 1200\n\nTermination of the siege of Troy.--Appearances observed by the\nbesieged.--The wooden horse.--Its probable size.--Various opinions\nin respect to the disposal of it.--Sudden appearance of a\ncaptive.--His wretched condition.--Sinon's account of the departure\nof the Greeks.--His story of the proposed sacrifice.--His\nescape.--Priam's address to him.--Sinon's account of the horse.--Effect\nproduced by Sinon's story.--The serpents and Laocoon.--Ancient statue\nof Laocoon.--Its history.--The statue now deposited in the\nVatican.--Description of it.--Effect produced upon the Trojans by\nLaocoon's fate.--The Trojans draw the horse into the city.--The Greeks\nadmitted to the city.--AEneas awakened by the din.--His meeting with\nPantheus.--His surprise and terror.--Adventures of AEneas and\nPantheus.--The tortoise.--The position of AEneas.--The tower.--The\nsacking of the palace.--Priam.--Priam and Hecuba at the altar.--The\ndeath of Priam.--The despair of the Trojans.\n\n\nAfter the final conquest and destruction of Troy, AEneas, in the course\nof his wanderings, stopped, it was said, at Carthage, on his way to\nItaly, and there, according to ancient story, he gave the following\naccount of the circumstances attending the capture and the sacking of\nthe city, and his own escape from the scene.\n\nOne day, after the war had been continued with various success for a\nlong period of time, the sentinels on the walls and towers of the city\nbegan to observe extraordinary movements in the camp of the besiegers,\nwhich seemed to indicate preparations for breaking up the camp and\ngoing away. Tents were struck. Men were busy passing to and fro,\narranging arms and military stores, as if for transportation. A fleet\nof ships was drawn up along the shore, which was not far distant, and\na great scene of activity manifested itself upon the bank, indicating\nan approaching embarkation. In a word, the tidings soon spread\nthroughout the city, that the Greeks had at length become weary of the\nprotracted contest, and were making preparations to withdraw from the\nfield. These proceedings were watched, of course, with great interest\nfrom the walls of the city, and at length the inhabitants, to their\ninexpressible joy, found their anticipations and hopes, as they\nthought, fully realized. The camp of the Greeks was gradually broken\nup, and at last entirely abandoned. The various bodies of troops were\ndrawn off one by one to the shore, where they were embarked on board\nthe ships, and then sailed away. As soon as this result was made sure,\nthe Trojans threw open the gates of the city, and came out in\nthrongs,--soldiers and citizens, men, women and children together,--to\nexplore the abandoned encampment, and to rejoice over the departure of\ntheir terrible enemies.\n\nThe first thing which attracted their attention was an immense wooden\nhorse, which stood upon the ground that the Greek encampment had\noccupied. The Trojans immediately gathered, one and all, around the\nmonster, full of wonder and curiosity. AEneas, in narrating the story,\nsays that the image was as large as a mountain; but, as he afterward\nrelates that the people drew it on wheels within the walls of the\ncity, and especially as he represents them as attaching the ropes for\nthis purpose to the _neck_ of the image, instead of to its fore-legs,\nwhich would have furnished the only proper points of attachment if the\neffigy had been of any very extraordinary size, he must have had a\nvery small mountain in mind in making the comparison. Or, which is\nperhaps more probable, he used the term only in a vague metaphorical\nsense, as we do now when we speak of the waves of the ocean as running\nmountain high, when it is well ascertained that the crests of the\nbillows, even in the most violent and most protracted storms, never\nrise more than twenty feet above the general level.\n\nAt all events, the image was large enough to excite the wonder of all\nthe beholders. The Trojan people gathered around it, wholly unable to\nunderstand for what purpose the Greeks could have constructed such a\nmonster, to leave behind them on their departure from Troy. After the\nfirst emotions of astonishment and wonder which the spectacle awakened\nhad somewhat subsided, there followed a consultation in respect to\nthe disposal which was to be made of the prodigy. The opinions on this\npoint were very various. One commander was disposed to consider the\nimage a sacred prize, and recommended that they should convey it into\nthe city, and deposit it in the citadel, as a trophy of victory.\nAnother, dissenting decidedly from this counsel, said that he strongly\nsuspected some latent treachery, and he proposed to build a fire under\nthe body of the monster, and burn the image itself and all\ncontrivances for mischief which might be contained in it, together. A\nthird recommended that they should hew it open, and see for themselves\nwhat there might be within. One of the Trojan leaders named Laocoon,\nwho, just at this juncture, came to the spot, remonstrated loudly and\nearnestly against having any thing to do with so mysterious and\nsuspicious a prize, and, by way of expressing the strong animosity\nwhich he felt toward it, he hurled his spear with all his force\nagainst the monster's side. The spear stood trembling in the wood,\nproducing a deep hollow sound by the concussion.\n\nWhat the decision would have been in respect to the disposal of the\nhorse, if this consultation and debate had gone on, it is impossible\nto say, as the farther consideration of the subject was all at once\ninterrupted, by new occurrences which here suddenly intervened, and\nwhich, after engrossing for a time the whole attention of the company\nassembled, finally controlled the decision of the question. A crowd of\npeasants and shepherds were seen coming from the mountains, with much\nexcitement, and loud shouts and outcries, bringing with them a captive\nGreek whom they had secured and bound. As the peasants came up with\ntheir prisoner, the Trojans gathered eagerly round them, full of\nexcitement and threats of violence, all thirsting, apparently, for\ntheir victim's blood. He, on his part, filled the air with the most\npiteous lamentations and cries for mercy.\n\nHis distress and wretchedness, and the earnest entreaties which he\nuttered, seemed at length to soften the hearts of his enemies and\nfinally, the violence of the crowd around the captive became somewhat\nappeased, and was succeeded by a disposition to question him, and hear\nwhat he had to say. The Greek told them, in answer to their\ninterrogations, that his name was Sinon, and that he was a fugitive\nfrom his own countrymen the Greeks, who had been intending to kill\nhim. He said that the Greek leaders had long been desirous of\nabandoning the siege of Troy, and that they had made many attempts to\nembark their troops and sail away, but that the winds and seas had\nrisen against them on every such attempt, and defeated their design.\nThey then sent to consult the oracle of Apollo, to learn what was the\ncause of the displeasure and hostility thus manifested against them by\nthe god of the sea. The oracle replied, that they could not depart\nfrom Troy, till they had first made an atoning and propitiatory\noffering by the sacrifice of a man, such an one as Apollo himself\nmight designate. When this answer was returned, the whole army, as\nSinon said, was thrown into a state of consternation. No one knew but\nthat the fatal designation might fall on him. The leaders were,\nhowever, earnestly determined on carrying the measure into effect.\nUlysses called upon Calchas, the priest of Apollo, to point out the\nman who was to die. Calchas waited day after day, for ten days, before\nthe divine intimation was made to him in respect to the individual\nwho was to suffer. At length he said that Sinon was the destined\nvictim. His comrades, Sinon said, rejoicing in their own escape from\nso terrible a doom, eagerly assented to the priest's decision, and\nimmediately made preparations for the ceremony. The altar was reared.\nThe victim was adorned for the sacrifice, and the garlands, according\nto the accustomed usage, were bound upon his temples. He contrived,\nhowever, he said, at the last moment, to make his escape. He broke the\nbands with which he had been bound, and fled into a morass near the\nshore, where he remained concealed in inaccessible thickets until the\nGreeks had sailed away. He then came forth and was at length seized\nand bound by the shepherds of the mountains, who found him wandering\nabout, in extreme destitution and misery. Sinon concluded his tale by\nthe most piteous lamentations, on his wretched lot. The Trojans, he\nsupposed, would kill him, and the Greeks, on their return to his\nnative land, in their anger against him for having made his escape\nfrom them, would destroy his wife and children.\n\nThe air and manner with which Sinon told this story seemed so\nsincere, and so natural and unaffected were the expressions of\nwretchedness and despair with which he ended his narrative, that the\nTrojan leaders had no suspicion that it was not true. Their compassion\nwas moved for the wretched fugitive, and they determined to spare his\nlife. Priam, the aged king, who was present at the scene, in the midst\nof the Trojan generals, ordered the cords with which the peasants had\nbound the captive to be sundered, that he might stand before them\nfree. The king spoke to him, too, in a kind and encouraging manner.\n\"Forget your countrymen,\" said he. \"They are gone. Henceforth you\nshall be one of us. We will take care of you. And now,\" he\ncontinued, \"tell us what this monstrous image means. Why did the\nGreeks make it, and why have they left it here?\"\n\nSinon, as if grateful for the generosity with which his life had been\nspared, professed himself ready to give his benefactors the fullest\ninformation. He told them that the wooden horse had been built by the\nGreeks to replace a certain image of Pallas which they had previously\ntaken and borne away from Troy. It was to replace this image, Sinon\nsaid, that the Greeks had built the wooden horse; and their purpose\nin making the image of this monstrous size was to prevent the\npossibility of the Trojans taking it into the city, and thus\nappropriating to themselves the benefit of its protecting efficacy and\nvirtue.\n\nThe Trojans listened with breathless interest to all that Sinon said,\nand readily believed his story; so admirably well did he counterfeit,\nby his words and his demeanor, all the marks and tokens of honest\nsincerity in what he said of others, as well of grief and despair in\nrespect to his own unhappy lot. The current of opinion which had begun\nbefore to set strongly in favor of destroying the horse, was wholly\nturned, and all began at once to look upon the colossal image as an\nobject of sacred veneration, and to begin to form plans for\ntransporting it within the limits of the city. Whatever remaining\ndoubts any of them might have felt on the subject were dispelled by\nthe occurrence of a most extraordinary phenomenon just at this stage\nof the affair, which was understood by all to be a divine judgment\nupon Laocoon for his sacriligious temerity in striking his spear into\nthe horse's side. It had been determined to offer a sacrifice to\nNeptune. Lots were drawn to determine who should perform the rite. The\nlot fell upon Laocoon. He began to make preparations to perform the\nduty, assisted by his two young sons, when suddenly two immense\nserpents appeared, coming up from the sea. They came swimming over the\nsurface of the water, with their heads elevated above the waves, until\nthey reached the shore, and then gliding swiftly along, they advanced\nacross the plain, their bodies brilliantly spotted and glittering in\nthe sun, their eyes flashing, and their forked and venomous tongues\ndarting threats and defiance as they came. The people fled in dismay.\nThe serpents, disregarding all others, made their way directly toward\nthe affrighted children of Laocoon, and twining around them they soon\nheld the writhing and struggling limbs of their shrieking victims\nhopelessly entangled in their deadly convolutions.\n\nLaocoon, who was himself at a little distance from the spot, when the\nserpents came, as soon as he saw the danger and heard the agonizing\ncries of his boys, seized a weapon and ran to rescue them. Instead,\nhowever, of being able to save his children, he only involved himself\nin their dreadful fate. The serpents seized him as soon as he came\nwithin their reach, and taking two turns around his neck and two\naround his body, and binding in a remorseless grip the forms of the\nfainting and dying boys with other convolutions, they raised their\nheads high above the group of victims which they thus enfolded, and\nhissed and darted out their forked tongues in token of defiance and\nvictory. When at length their work was done, they glided away and took\nrefuge in a temple that was near, and coiled themselves up for repose\nbeneath the feet of the statue of a goddess that stood in the shrine.\n\nThe story of Laocoon has become celebrated among all mankind in modern\ntimes by means of a statue representing the catastrophe, which was\nfound two or three centuries ago among the ruins of an ancient edifice\nat Rome. This statue was mentioned by an old Roman writer, Pliny, who\ngave an account of it while it yet stood in its place in the ancient\ncity. He said that it was the work of three artists, a father and two\nsons, who combined their industry and skill to carve in one group, and\nwith immense labor and care, the representation of Laocoon himself,\nthe two boys, and the two serpents, making five living beings\nintertwined intricately together, and all carved from one single block\nof marble. On the decline and fall of Rome this statue was lost among\nthe ruins of the city, and for many centuries it was known to mankind\nonly through the description of Pliny. At length it was brought to\nlight again, having been discovered about three centuries ago, under\nthe ruins of the very edifice in which Pliny had described it as\nstanding. It immediately became the object of great interest and\nattention to the whole world. It was deposited in the Vatican; a great\nreward was paid to the owner of the ground on which it was discovered;\ndrawings and casts of it, without number, have been made; and the\noriginal stands in the Vatican now, an object of universal interest,\nas one of the most celebrated sculptures of ancient or modern times.\n\nLaocoon himself forms the center of the group, with the serpents\ntwined around him, while he struggles, with a fearful expression of\nterror and anguish in his countenance, in the vain attempt to release\nhimself from their hold. One of the serpents has bitten one of the\nboys in the side, and the wounded child sinks under the effects of\nthe poison. The other boy, in an agony of terror, is struggling,\nhopelessly, to release his foot from the convolutions with which one\nof the serpents has encircled it. The expression of the whole group is\nexciting and painful, and yet notwithstanding this, there is combined\nwith it a certain mysterious grace and beauty which charms every eye,\nand makes the composition the wonder of mankind.\n\nBut to return to the story. The people understood this awful\nvisitation to be the judgment of heaven against Laocoon for his\nsacrilegious presumption in daring to thrust his spear into the side\nof the image before them, and which they were now very sure they were\nto consider as something supernatural and divine. They determined with\none accord to take it into the city.\n\nThey immediately began to make preparations for the transportation of\nit. They raised it from the ground, and fitted to the feet some sort\nof machinery of wheels or rollers, suitable to the nature of the\nground, and strong enough to bear the weight of the colossal mass.\nThey attached long ropes to the neck of the image, and extended them\nforward upon the ground, and then brought up large companies of\ncitizens and soldiers to man them. They arranged a procession,\nconsisting of the generals of the army, and of the great civil\ndignitaries of the state; and in addition to these were groups of\nsinging boys and girls, adorned with wreaths and garlands, who were\nappointed to chant sacred hymns to solemnize the occasion. They\nwidened the access to the city, too, by tearing down a portion of the\nwall so as to open a sufficient space to enable the monster to get in.\nWhen all was ready the ropes were manned, the signal was given, the\nponderous mass began to move, and though it encountered in its\nprogress many difficulties, obstructions, and delays, in due time it\nwas safely deposited in the court of a great public edifice within the\ncity. The wall was then repaired, the day passed away, the night came\non, the gates were shut, and the curiosity and wonder of the people\nwithin being gradually satisfied, they at length dispersed to their\nseveral homes and retired to rest. At midnight the unconscious effigy\nstood silent and alone where its worshipers had left it, while the\nwhole population of the city were sunk in slumber, except the\nsentinels who had been stationed as usual to keep guard at the gates,\nor to watch upon the towers and battlements above them.\n\nIn the mean time the Greek fleet, which had sailed away under pretense\nof finally abandoning the country, had proceeded only to the island of\nTenedos, which was about a league from the shore, and there they had\nconcealed themselves during the day. As soon as night came on they\nreturned to the main land, and disembarking with the utmost silence\nand secrecy, they made their way back again under cover of the\ndarkness, as near as they dared to come to the gates of the city. In\nthe mean time Sinon had arisen stealthily from the sleep which he had\nfeigned to deceive those to whose charge he had been committed, and\ncreeping cautiously through the streets he repaired to the place where\nthe wooden horse had been deposited, and there opened a secret door in\nthe side of the image, and liberated a band of armed and desperate men\nwho had been concealed within. These men, as soon as they had\ndescended to the ground and had adjusted their armor, rushed to the\ncity walls, surprised and killed the sentinels and watchmen, threw\nopen the gates, and gave the whole body of their comrades that were\nlurking outside the walls, in the silence and darkness of the night,\nan unobstructed admission.\n\nAEneas was asleep in his house while these things were transpiring. The\nhouse where he lived was in a retired and quiet situation, but he was\nawakened from his sleep by distant outcries and din, and springing\nfrom his couch, and hastily resuming his dress, he ascended to the\nroof of the house to ascertain the cause of the alarm. He saw flames\nascending from various edifices in the quarter of the city where the\nGreeks had come in. He listened. He could distinctly hear the shouts\nof men, and the notes of trumpets sounding the alarm. He immediately\nseized his armor and rushed forth into the streets, arousing the\ninhabitants around him from their slumbers by his shouts, and calling\nupon them to arm themselves and follow him.\n\nIn the midst of this excitement, there suddenly appeared before him,\ncoming from the scene of the conflict, a Trojan friend, named\nPantheus, who was hastening away from the danger, perfectly\nbewildered with excitement and agitation. He was leading with him his\nlittle son, who was likewise pale with terror. AEneas asked Pantheus\nwhat had happened. Pantheus in reply explained to him in hurried and\nbroken words, that armed men, treacherously concealed within the\nwooden horse, had issued forth from their concealment, and had opened\nthe gates of the city, and let the whole horde of their ferocious and\ndesperate enemies in; that the sentinels and guards who had been\nstationed at the gates had been killed; and that the Greek troops had\nfull possession of the city, and were barricading the streets and\nsetting fire to the buildings on every side. \"All is lost,\" said he,\n\"our cause is ruined, and Troy is no more.\"\n\nThe announcing of these tidings filled AEneas and those who had joined\nhim with a species of phrensy. They resolved to press forward into the\ncombat, and there, if they must perish themselves, to carry down as\nmany as possible of their enemies with them to destruction. They\npressed on, therefore, through the gloomy streets, guiding their way\ntoward the scene of action by the glare of the fires upon the sky, and\nby the sounds of the distant tumult and din.\n\nThey soon found themselves in the midst of scenes of dreadful terror\nand confusion,--the scenes, in fact, which are usually exhibited in\nthe midnight sacking of a city. They met with various adventures\nduring the time that they continued their desperate but hopeless\nresistance. They encountered a party of Greeks, and overpowered and\nslew them, and then, seizing the armor which their fallen enemies had\nworn, they disguised themselves in it, in hopes to deceive the main\nbody of the Greeks by this means, so as to mingle among them\nunobserved, and thus attack and destroy such small parties as they\nmight meet without being themselves attacked by the rest. They saw the\nprincess Cassandra, the young daughter of king Priam, dragged away by\nGreek soldiers from a temple where she had sought refuge. They\nimmediately undertook to rescue her, and were at once attacked both by\nthe Greek party who had the princess in charge, and also by the Trojan\nsoldiers, who shot arrows and darts down upon them from the roofs\nabove, supposing, from the armor and the plumes which they wore, that\nthey were enemies. They saw the royal palace besieged, and the\n_tortoise_ formed for scaling the walls of it. The tumult and din, and\nthe frightful glare of lurid flames by which the city was illuminated,\na scene of inconceivable confusion and terror.\n\n[Illustration: THE TORTOISE.]\n\nAEneas watched the progress of the assault upon the palace from the top\nof certain lofty roofs, to which he ascended for the purpose. Here\nthere was a slender tower, which had been built for a watch-tower, and\nhad been carried up to such a height that, from the summit of it, the\nwatchmen stationed there could survey all the environs of the city,\nand on one side look off to some distance over the sea. This tower\nAEneas and the Trojans who were with him contrived to cut off at its\nbase, and throw over upon the throngs of Grecians that were thundering\nat the palace gates below. Great numbers were killed by the falling\nruins, and the tortoise was broken down. The Greeks, however, soon\nformed another tortoise, by means of which some of the soldiers scaled\nthe walls, while others broke down the gates with battering rams and\nengines; and thus the palace, the sacred and last remaining stronghold\nof the city, was thrown open to the ferocious and frantic horde of its\nassailants.\n\nThe sacking of the palace presented an awful spectacle to the view of\nAEneas and his companions, as they looked down upon it from the roofs\nand battlements around. As the walls, one after another, fell in under\nthe resistless blows dealt by the engines that were brought against\nthem, the interior halls, and the most retired and private apartments,\nwere thrown open to view--all illuminated by the glare of the\nsurrounding conflagrations.\n\nShrieks and wailing, and every other species of outcry that comes from\ngrief, terror, and despair, arose from within; and such spectators as\nhad the heart to look continuously upon the spectacle, could see\nwretched men running to and fro, and virgins clinging to altars for\nprotection, and frantic mothers vainly endeavoring to find\nhiding-places for themselves and their helpless children.\n\nPriam the king, who was at this time old and infirm, was aroused from\nhis slumbers by the dreadful din, and immediately began to seize his\narmor, and to prepare himself for rushing into the fight. His wife,\nhowever, Hecuba, begged and entreated him to desist. She saw that all\nwas lost, and that any farther attempts at resistance would only\nexasperate their enemies, and render their own destruction the more\ninevitable. She persuaded the king, therefore, to give up his weapons\nand go with her to an altar, in one of the courts of the palace,--a\nplace which it would be sacrilege for their enemies to violate--and\nthere patiently and submissively to await the end. Priam yielded to\nthe queen's solicitations, and went with her to the place of refuge\nwhich she had chosen;--and the plan which they thus adopted, might\nvery probably have been successful in saving their lives, had it not\nbeen for an unexpected occurrence which suddenly intervened, and which\nled to a fatal result. While they were seated by the altar, in\nattitudes of submission and suppliance, they were suddenly aroused by\nthe rushing toward them of one of their sons, who came in, wounded and\nbleeding from some scene of combat, and pursued by angry and ferocious\nfoes. The spent and fainting warrior sank down at the feet of his\nfather and mother, and lay there dying and weltering in the blood\nwhich flowed from his wounds. The aged king was aroused to madness at\nthis spectacle. He leaped to his feet, seized a javelin, and\nthundering out at the same time the most loud and bitter imprecations\nagainst the murderers of his son, he hurled the weapon toward them as\nthey advanced. The javelin struck the shield of the leader of the\nassailants, and rebounded from it without producing any other effect\nthan to enrage still more the furious spirit which it was meant to\ndestroy. The assailant rushed forward, seized the aged father by the\nhair, dragged him slipping, as he went, in the blood of his son, up to\nthe altar, and there plunged a sword into his body, burying it to the\nhilt,--and then threw him down, convulsed and dying, upon the body of\nhis dying child.\n\nThus Priam fell, and with him the last hope of the people of Troy. The\ncity in full possession of their enemies, the palace and citadel\nsacked and destroyed, and the king slain, they saw that there was\nnothing now left for which they had any wish to contend.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE FLIGHT OF AENEAS.\n\nB.C. 1200\n\nAEneas's reflections.--He determines to go home.--AEneas is left at last\nalone.--He goes away.--He sees the princess Helen.--Story of\nHelen.--AEneas determines to destroy her.--His reflections.--The\napparition of Aphrodite.--Her words.--His mother's magical\nprotection.--He reaches his home.--The determination of\nAnchises.--Creusa's entreaties.--The plan formed for the escape of the\nfamily.--The lion's skin.--The household gods.--Creusa.--The whole\nparty proceed towards the gates.--Escape from the city.--Creusa is\nlost.--AEneas goes back in search of Creusa.--He finds that his house\nhas been burned.--The apparition of Creusa.--Her predictions.--Her\nfarewell to her husband.--Preparations for departure.--AEneas's company\nincreases.--His fleet.--The embarkation.--Map of the wanderings of\nAEneas.--A dreadful prodigy.--The bleeding myrtle.--Words of the\nmyrtle.--Story of Polydorus.--AEneas leaves Thrace.--His various\nwanderings.--The attempted settlement at Crete.--Calamities.--AEneas's\nperplexity.--Advice of Anchises.--Scene at night.--The household\ndeities.--Their address to AEneas.--Effect of this address.--Subsequent\nadventures.--Danger of shipwreck.--The harpies.--AEneas driven\naway.--Dangers at Mt. Etna.--The one-eyed giants.--Polyphemus.--Remarks\non the story of AEneas.\n\n\nAEneas, from his station upon the battlements of a neighboring edifice,\nwitnessed the taking of the palace and the death of Priam. He\nimmediately gave up all for lost, and turned his thoughts at once to\nthe sole question of the means of saving himself and his family from\nimpending destruction. He thought of his father, Anchises, who at this\ntime lived with him in the city, and was nearly of the same age as\nPriam the king, whom he had just seen so cruelly slain. He thought of\nhis wife too, whom he had left at home, and of his little son\nAscanius, and he began now to be overwhelmed with the apprehension,\nthat the besiegers had found their way to his dwelling, and were,\nperhaps, at that very moment plundering and destroying it and\nperpetrating cruel deeds of violence and outrage upon his wife and\nfamily. He determined immediately to hasten home.\n\nHe looked around to see who of his companions remained with him.\nThere was not one. They had all gone and left him alone. Some had\nleaped down from the battlements and made their escape to other parts\nof the city. Some had fallen in the attempt to leap, and had perished\nin the flames that were burning among the buildings beneath them.\nOthers still had been reached by darts and arrows from below, and had\ntumbled headlong from their lofty height into the street beneath them.\nThe Greeks, too, had left that part of the city. When the destruction\nof the palace had been effected, there was no longer any motive to\nremain, and they had gone away, one band after another, with loud\nshouts of exultation and defiance, to seek new combats in other\nquarters of the city. AEneas listened to the sounds of their voices, as\nthey gradually died away upon his ear. Thus, in one way and another,\nall had gone, and AEneas found himself alone.\n\nAEneas contrived to find his way back safely to the street, and then\nstealthily choosing his way, and vigilantly watching against the\ndangers that surrounded him, he advanced cautiously among the ruins of\nthe palace, in the direction toward his own home. He had not\nproceeded far before he saw a female figure lurking in the shadow of\nan altar near which he had to pass. It proved to be the princess\nHelen.\n\n[Illustration: HELEN.]\n\nHelen was a Grecian princess, formerly the wife of Menelaus, king of\nSparta, but she had eloped from Greece some years before, with Paris,\nthe son of Priam, king of Troy, and this elopement had been the whole\ncause of the Trojan war. In the first instance, Menelaus, accompanied\nby another Grecian chieftain, went to Troy and demanded that Helen\nshould be given up again to her proper husband. Paris refused to\nsurrender her. Menelaus then returned to Greece and organized a grand\nexpedition to proceed to Troy and recapture the queen. This was the\norigin of the war. The people, therefore, looked upon Helen as the\ncause, whether innocent or guilty, of all their calamities.\n\nWhen AEneas, therefore, who was, as may well be supposed, in no very\namiable or gentle temper, as he hurried along away from the smoking\nruins of the palace toward his home, saw Helen endeavoring to screen\nherself from the destruction which she had been the means of bringing\nupon all that he held dear, he was aroused to a phrensy of anger\nagainst her, and determined to avenge the wrongs of his country by her\ndestruction. \"I will kill her,\" said he to himself, as he rushed\nforward toward the spot where she was concealed. \"There is no great\nglory it is true in wreaking vengeance on a woman, or in bringing her\nto the punishment which her crimes deserve. Still I will kill her, and\nI shall be commended for the deed. She shall not, after bringing ruin\nupon us, escape herself, and go back to Greece in safety and be a\nqueen there again.\"\n\nAs AEneas said these words, rushing forward at the same time, sword in\nhand, he was suddenly intercepted and brought to a stand by the\napparition of his mother, the goddess Aphrodite, who all at once stood\nin the way before him. She stopped him, took him by the hand, urged\nhim to restrain his useless anger, and calmed and quieted him with\nsoothing words. \"It is not Helen,\" said she, \"that has caused the\ndestruction of Troy. It is through the irresistible and irrevocable\ndecrees of the gods that the city has fallen. It is useless for you to\nstruggle against inevitable destiny, or to attempt to take vengeance\non mere human means and instrumentalities. Think no more of Helen.\nThink of your family. Your aged father, your helpless wife, your\nlittle son,--where are they? Even now while you are wasting time here\nin vain attempts to take vengeance on Helen for what the gods have\ndone, all that are near and dear to you are surrounded by ferocious\nenemies thirsting for their blood. Fly to them and save them. I shall\naccompany you, though unseen, and will protect you and them from\nevery impending danger.\"\n\nAs soon as Aphrodite had spoken these words she disappeared from view.\nAEneas, following her injunctions, went directly toward his home; and\nhe found as he passed along the streets that the way was opened for\nhim, by mysterious movements among the armed bands which were passing\nin every direction about the city, in such a manner as to convince him\nthat his mother was really accompanying him, and protecting his way by\nher supernatural powers.\n\nWhen he reached home the first person whom he saw was Anchises his\nfather. He told Anchises that all was lost, and that nothing now\nremained for them but to seek safety for themselves by flying to the\nmountains behind the city. But Anchises refused to go. \"You who are\nyoung,\" said he, \"and who have enough of life before you to be worth\npreserving, may fly. As for me I will not attempt to save the little\nremnant that remains to me, to be spent, if saved, in miserable exile.\nIf the powers of heaven had intended that I should have lived any\nlonger, they would have spared my native city,--my only home. You may\ngo yourselves, but leave me here to die.\"\n\nIn saying these words Anchises turned away in great despondency,\nfirmly fixed, apparently, in his determination to remain and share the\nfate of the city. AEneas and Creusa his wife joined their entreaties in\nurging him to go away. But he would not be persuaded. AEneas then\ndeclared that he would not go and leave his father. If one was to die\nthey would all die, he said, together. He called for his armor and\nbegan to put it on, resolving to go out again into the streets of the\ncity and die, since he must die, in the act of destroying his\ndestroyers.\n\nHe was, however, prevented from carrying this determination into\neffect, by Creusa's intervention, who fell down before him at the\nthreshold of the door, almost frantic with excitement and terror, and\nholding her little son Ascanius with one arm, and clasping her\nhusband's knees with the other, she begged him not to leave them.\n\"Stay and save us,\" said she; \"do not go and throw your life away. Or,\nif you will go, take us with you that we may all die together.\"\n\nThe conflict of impulses and passions in this unhappy family\ncontinued for some time longer, but it ended at last, in the yielding\nof Anchises to the wishes of the rest, and they all resolved to fly.\nIn the mean time, the noise and uproar in the streets of the city,\nwere drawing nearer and nearer, and the light of the burning buildings\nbreaking out continually at new points in the progress of the\nconflagration, indicated that no time was to be lost. AEneas hastily\nformed his plan. His father was too old and infirm to go himself\nthrough the city. AEneas determined therefore to carry him upon his\nshoulders. Little Ascanius was to walk along by his side. Creusa was\nto follow, keeping as close as possible to her husband lest she should\nlose him in the darkness of the night, or in the scenes of uproar and\nconfusion through which they would have to pass on the way. The\ndomestics of the family were to escape from the city by different\nroutes, each choosing his own, in order to avoid attracting the\nattention of their enemies; and when once without the gates they were\nall to rendezvous again at a certain rising ground, not far from the\ncity, which AEneas designated to them by means of an old deserted\ntemple which marked the spot, and a venerable cypress which grew\nthere.\n\nThis plan being formed the party immediately proceeded to put it in\nexecution. AEneas spread a lion's skin over his shoulders to make the\nresting-place more easy for his father, or perhaps to lighten the\npressure of the heavy burden upon his own limbs. Anchises took what\nwere called the household gods, in his hands. These were sacred images\nwhich it was customary to keep, in those days, in every dwelling, as\nthe symbol and embodiment of divine protection. To save these images,\nwhen every thing else was given up for lost, was always the object of\nthe last desperate effort of the husband and father. AEneas in this\ncase asked his father to take these images, as it would have been an\nimpiety for him, having come fresh from scenes of battle and\nbloodshed, to have put his hand upon them, without previously\nperforming some ceremony of purification. Ascanius took hold of his\nfather's hand. Creusa followed behind. Thus arranged they sallied\nforth from the house into the streets--all dark and gloomy, except so\nfar as they received a partial and inconstant light from the flames\nof the distant conflagrations, which glared in the sky, and flashed\nsometimes upon battlements and towers, and upon the tops of lofty\ndwellings.\n\nAEneas pressed steadily on, though in a state continually of the\nhighest excitement and apprehension. He kept stealthily along wherever\nhe could find the deepest shadows, under walls, and through the most\nobscure and the narrowest streets. He was in constant fear lest some\nstray dart or arrow should strike Anchises or Creusa, or lest some\nband of Greeks should come suddenly upon them, in which case he knew\nwell that they would all be cut down without mercy, for, loaded down\nas he was with his burden, he would be entirely unable to do any thing\nto defend either himself or them. The party, however, for a time\nseemed to escape all these dangers, but at length, just as they were\napproaching the gate of the city, and began to think that they were\nsafe, they were suddenly alarmed by a loud uproar, and by a rush of\nmen which came in toward them from some streets in that quarter of the\ncity, and threatened to overwhelm them. Anchises was greatly alarmed.\nHe saw the gleaming weapons of the Greeks who were rushing toward\nthem, and he called out to AEneas to fly faster, or to turn off some\nother way, in order to escape the impending danger. AEneas was\nterrified by the shouts and uproar which he heard, and his mind was\nfor a moment confused by the bewildering influences of the scene. He\nhowever hurried forward, running this way and that, wherever there\nseemed the best prospect of escape, and often embarrassed and retarded\nin his flight by the crowds of people who were moving confusedly in\nall directions. At length, however, he succeeded in finding egress\nfrom the city. He pressed on, without stopping to look behind him till\nhe reached the appointed place of rendezvous on the hill, and then\ngently laying down his burden, he looked around for Creusa. She was\nnowhere to be seen.\n\nAEneas was in utter consternation, at finding that his wife was gone.\nHe mourned and lamented this dreadful calamity with loud exclamations\nof grief and despair; then reflecting that it was a time for action\nand not for idle grief, he hastened to conceal his father and Ascanius\nin a dark and winding valley behind the hill, and leaving them there\nunder the charge of his domestics, he hastened back to the city to\nsee if Creusa could be found.\n\nHe armed himself completely before he went, being in his desperation\ndetermined to encounter every danger in his attempts to find and to\nrecover his beloved wife. He went directly to the gate from which he\nhad come out, and re-entering the city there, he began to retrace, as\nwell as he could, the way that he had taken in coming out of the\ncity--guiding himself as he went, by the light of the flames which\nrose up here and there from the burning buildings.\n\nHe went on in this way in a desperate state of agitation and distress,\nsearching everywhere but seeing nothing of Creusa. At length he\nthought it possible that she had concluded, when she found herself\nseparated from him, to go back to the house, as the safest place of\nrefuge for her, and he determined, accordingly, to go and seek her\nthere. This was his last hope, and most cruelly was it disappointed\nwhen he came to the place of his dwelling.\n\nHe found his house, when he arrived near the spot, all in flames. The\nsurrounding buildings were burning too, and the streets in the\nneighborhood were piled up with furniture and goods which the\nwretched inmates of the dwellings had vainly endeavored to save. These\ninmates themselves were standing around, distracted with grief and\nterror, and gazing hopelessly upon the scene of devastation before\nthem.\n\nAEneas saw all these things at a glance, and immediately, in a phrensy\nof excitement, began to call out Creusa's name. He went to and fro\namong the groups surrounding the fire, calling for her in a frantic\nmanner, and imploring all whom he saw to give him some tidings of her.\nAll was, however, in vain. She could not be found. AEneas then went\nroaming about through other portions of the city, seeking her\neverywhere, and inquiring for her of every person whom he met that had\nthe appearance of being a friend. His suspense, however, was\nterminated at last by his suddenly coming upon an apparition of the\nspirit of Creusa, which rose before him in a solitary part of the\ncity, and arrested his progress. The apparition was of preternatural\nsize, and it stood before him in so ethereal and shadow-like a form,\nand the features beamed upon him with so calm and placid and benignant\nan expression, as convinced him that the vision was not of this\nworld. AEneas saw at a glance that Creusa's earthly sorrows and\nsufferings were ended forever.\n\nAt first he was shocked and terrified at the spectacle. Creusa,\nhowever, endeavored to calm and quiet him by soothing words. \"My\ndearest husband,\" said she, \"do not give way thus to anxiety and\ngrief. The events which have befallen us, have not come by chance.\nThey are all ordered by an overruling providence that is omnipotent\nand divine. It was predetermined by the decrees of heaven that you\nwere not to take me with you in your flight. I have learned what your\nfuture destiny is to be. There is a long period of weary wandering\nbefore you, over the ocean and on the land, and you will have many\ndifficulties, dangers, and trials to incur. You will, however, be\nconducted safely through them all, and will in the end find a peaceful\nand happy home on the banks of the Tiber. There you will found a new\nkingdom; a princess is even now provided for you there, to become your\nbride. Cease then to mourn for me; rather rejoice that I did not fall\na captive into the hands of our enemies, to be carried away into\nGreece and made a slave. I am free, and you must not lament my fate.\nFarewell. Love Ascanius for my sake, and watch over him and protect\nhim as long as you live.\"\n\nHaving spoken these words, the vision began to disappear. AEneas\nendeavored to clasp the beloved image in his arms to retain it, but it\nwas intangible and evanescent, and, before he could speak to it, it\nwas gone, and he was left standing in the desolate and gloomy street\nalone. He turned at length slowly away; and solitary, thoughtful and\nsad, he went back to the gate of the city, and thence out to the\nvalley where he had concealed Anchises and his little son.\n\nHe found them safe. The whole party then sought places of retreat\namong the glens and mountains, where they could remain concealed a few\ndays, while AEneas and his companions could make arrangements for\nabandoning the country altogether. These arrangements were soon\ncompleted. As soon as the Greeks had retired, so that they could come\nout without danger from their place of retreat, AEneas employed his men\nin building a number of small vessels, fitting them, as was usual in\nthose days, both with sails and oars.\n\nDuring the progress of these preparations, small parties of Trojans\nwere coming in continually, day by day, to join him; being drawn\nsuccessively from their hiding-places among the mountains, by hearing\nthat the Greeks had gone away, and that AEneas was gradually assembling\nthe remnant of the Trojans on the shore. The numbers thus collected at\nAEneas's encampment gradually increased, and as AEneas enlarged and\nextended his naval preparations to correspond with the augmenting\nnumbers of his adherents, he found when he was ready to set sail, that\nhe was at the head of a very respectable naval and military force.\n\nWhen the fleet at last was ready, he put a stock of provisions on\nboard, and embarked his men,--taking, of course, Anchises and Ascanius\nwith him. As soon as a favorable wind arose, the expedition set sail.\nAs the vessels moved slowly away, the decks were covered with men and\nwomen, who gazed mournfully at the receding shores, conscious that\nthey were bidding a final farewell to their native land.\n\n[Illustration: WANDERINGS OF AENEAS.]\n\nThe nearest country within reach in leaving the Trojan coast, was\nThrace--a country lying north of the Egean Sea, and of the Propontis,\nbeing separated, in fact, in one part, from the Trojan territories,\nonly by the Hellespont. AEneas turned his course northward toward this\ncountry, and, after a short voyage, landed there, and attempted to\nmake a settlement. He was, however, prevented from remaining long, by\na dreadful prodigy which he witnessed there, and which induced him to\nleave those shores very precipitously. The prodigy was this:\n\nThey had erected an altar on the shore, after they had landed, and\nwere preparing to offer the sacrifices customary on such occasions,\nwhen AEneas, wishing to shade the altar with boughs, went to a myrtle\nbush which was growing near, and began to pull up the green shoots\nfrom the ground. To his astonishment and horror, he found that blood\nflowed from the roots whenever they were broken. Drops of what\nappeared to be human blood would ooze from the ruptured part as he\nheld the shoot in his hand, and fall slowly to the ground. He was\ngreatly terrified at this spectacle, considering it as some omen of\nvery dreadful import. He immediately and instinctively offered up a\nprayer to the presiding deities of the land, that they would avert\nfrom him the evil influences, whatever they might be, which the omen\nseemed to portend, or that they would at least explain the meaning of\nthe prodigy. After offering this prayer, he took hold of another stem\nof the myrtle, and attempted to draw it from the ground, in order to\nsee whether any change in the appearances exhibited by the prodigy\nhad been effected by his prayer. At the instant, however, when the\nroots began to give way, he heard a groan coming up from the ground\nbelow, as if from a person in suffering. Immediately afterward a\nvoice, in a mournful and sepulchral accent, began to beg him to go\naway, and cease disturbing the repose of the dead. \"What you are\ntearing and lacerating,\" said the voice, \"is not a tree, but a man. I\nam Polydorus. I was killed by the king of Thrace, and instead of\nburial, have been turned into a myrtle growing on the shore.\"\n\nPolydorus was a Trojan prince. He was the youngest son of Priam, and\nhad been sent some years before to Thrace, to be brought up in the\ncourt of the Thracian king. He had been provided with a large supply\nof money and treasure when he left Troy, in order that all his wants\nmight be abundantly supplied, and that he might maintain, during his\nabsence from home, the position to which his rank as a Trojan prince\nentitled him. His treasures, however, which had been provided for him\nby his father as his sure reliance for support and protection, became\nthe occasion of his ruin--for the Thracian king, when he found that\nthe war was going against the Trojans, and that Priam the father was\nslain, and the city destroyed, murdered the helpless son to get\npossession of his gold.\n\nAEneas and his companions were shocked to hear this story, and\nperceived at once that Thrace was no place of safety for them. They\nresolved immediately to leave the coast and seek their fortunes in\nother regions. They however, first, in secrecy and silence, but with\ngreat solemnity, performed those funeral rites for Polydorus which\nwere considered in those ages essential to the repose of the dead.\nWhen these mournful ceremonies were ended they embarked on board their\nships again and sailed away.\n\nAfter this, the party of AEneas spent many months in weary voyages from\nisland to island, and from shore to shore, along the Mediterranean\nsea, encountering every imaginable difficulty and danger, and meeting\ncontinually with the strangest and most romantic adventures. At one\ntime they were misled by a mistaken interpretation of prophecy to\nattempt a settlement in Crete--a green and beautiful island lying\nsouth of the Egean sea. They had applied to a sacred oracle, which\nhad its seat at a certain consecrated spot which they visited in the\ncourse of their progress southward through the Egean sea, asking the\noracle to direct them where to go in order to find a settled home. The\noracle, in answer to their request, informed them that they were to go\nto the land that their ancestors had originally come from, before\ntheir settlement in Troy. AEneas applied to Anchises to inform them\nwhat land this was. Anchises replied, that he thought it was Crete.\nThere was an ancient tradition, he said, that some distinguished men\namong the ancestors of the Trojans had originated in Crete; and he\npresumed accordingly that that was the land to which the oracle\nreferred.\n\nThe course of the little fleet was accordingly directed southward, and\nin due time the expedition safely reached the island of Crete, and\nlanded there. They immediately commenced the work of effecting a\nsettlement. They drew the ships up upon the shore; they laid out a\ncity; they inclosed and planted fields, and began to build their\nhouses. In a short time, however, all their bright prospects of rest\nand security were blighted by the breaking out of a dreadful\npestilence among them. Many died; others who still lived, were\nutterly prostrated by the effects of the disease, and crawled about,\nemaciated and wretched, a miserable and piteous spectacle to behold.\nTo crown their misfortunes, a great drought came on. The grain which\nthey had planted was dried up and killed in the fields; and thus, in\naddition to the horrors of pestilence, they were threatened with the\nstill greater horrors of famine. Their distress was extreme, and they\nwere utterly at a loss to know what to do.\n\nIn this extremity Anchises recommended that they should send back to\nthe oracle to inquire more particularly in respect to the meaning of\nthe former response, in order to ascertain whether they had, by\npossibility, misinterpreted it, and made their settlement on the wrong\nground. Or, if this was not the case, to learn by what other error or\nfault they had displeased the celestial powers, and brought upon\nthemselves such terrible judgments. AEneas determined to adopt this\nadvice, but he was prevented from carrying his intentions into effect\nby the following occurrence.\n\nOne night he was lying upon his couch in his dwelling,--so harassed\nby his anxieties and cares that he could not sleep, and revolving in\nhis mind all possible plans for extricating himself and his followers\nfrom the difficulties which environed them. The moon shone in at the\nwindows, and by the light of this luminary he saw, reposing in their\nshrines in the opposite side of the apartment where he was sleeping,\nthe household images which he had rescued from the flames of Troy. As\nhe looked upon these divinities in the still and solemn hour of\nmidnight, oppressed with anxiety and care, one of them began to\naddress him.\n\n\"We are commissioned,\" said this supernatural voice, \"by Apollo, whose\noracle you are intending to consult again, to give you the answer that\nyou desire, without requiring you to go back to his temple. It is true\nthat you have erred in attempting to make a settlement in Crete. This\nis not the land which is destined to be your home. You must leave\nthese shores, and continue your voyage. The land which is destined to\nreceive you is Italy, a land far removed from this spot, and your way\nto it lies over wide and boisterous seas. Do not be discouraged,\nhowever, on this account or on account of the calamities which now\nimpend over you. You will be prospered in the end. You will reach\nItaly in safety, and there you will lay the foundations of a mighty\nempire, which in days to come will extend its dominion far and wide\namong the nations of the earth. Take courage, then, and embark once\nmore in your ships with a cheerful and confident heart. You are safe,\nand in the end all will turn out well.\"\n\nThe strength and spirits of the desponding adventurer were very\nessentially revived by this encouragement. He immediately prepared to\nobey the injunctions which had been thus divinely communicated to him,\nand in a short time the half-built city was abandoned, and the\nexpedition once more embarked on board the fleet and proceeded to sea.\nThey met in their subsequent wanderings with a great variety of\nadventures, but it would extend this portion of our narrative too far,\nto relate them all. They encountered a storm by which for three days\nand three nights they were tossed to and fro, without seeing sun or\nstars, and of course without any guidance whatever; and during all\nthis time they were in the most imminent danger of being overwhelmed\nand destroyed by the billows which rolled sublimely and frightfully\naround them. At another time, having landed for rest and refreshment\namong a group of Grecian islands, they were attacked by the _harpies_,\nbirds of prey of prodigious size and most offensive habits, and fierce\nand voracious beyond description. The harpies were celebrated, in\nfact, in many of the ancient tales, as a race of beings that infested\ncertain shores, and often teased and tormented the mariners and\nadventurers that happened to come among them. Some said, however, that\nthere was not a race of such beings, but only two or three in all, and\nthey gave their names. And yet different narrators gave different\nnames, among which were Aelopos, Nicothoe, Ocythoe, Ocypoae, Celaeno,\nAcholoe, and Aello. Some said that the harpies had the faces and forms\nof women. Others described them as frightfully ugly; but all agree in\nrepresenting them as voracious beyond description, always greedily\ndevouring every thing that they could get within reach of their claws.\n\nThese fierce monsters flew down upon AEneas and his party, and carried\naway the food from off the table before them; and even attacked the\nmen themselves. The men then armed themselves with swords, secretly,\nand waited for the next approach of the harpies, intending to kill\nthem, when they came near. But the nimble marauders eluded all their\nblows, and escaped with their plunder as before. At length the\nexpedition was driven away from the island altogether, by these\nravenous fowls, and when they were embarking on board of their\nvessels, the leader of the harpies perched herself upon a rock\noverlooking the scene, and in a human voice loaded AEneas and his\ncompanions, as they went away, with taunts and execrations.\n\nThe expedition passed one night in great terror and dread in the\nvicinity of Mount Etna, where they had landed. The awful eruptions of\nsmoke, and flame, and burning lava, which issued at midnight from the\nsummit of the mountain,--the thundering sounds which they heard\nrolling beneath them, through the ground, and the dread which was\ninspired in their minds by the terrible monsters that dwelt beneath\nthe mountains, as they supposed, and fed the fires, all combined to\nimpress them with a sense of unutterable awe; and as soon as the light\nof the morning enabled them to resume their course, they made all\nhaste to get away from so appalling a scene. At another time they\ntouched upon a coast which was inhabited by a race of one-eyed\ngiants,--monsters of enormous magnitude and of remorseless cruelty.\nThey were cannibals,--feeding on the bodies of men whom they killed by\ngrasping them in their hands and beating them against the rocks which\nformed the sides of their den. Some men whom one of these monsters,\nnamed Polyphemus, had shut up in his cavern, contrived to surprise\ntheir keeper in his sleep, and though they were wholly unable to kill\nhim on account of his colossal magnitude, they succeeded in putting\nout his eye, and AEneas and his companions saw the blinded giant, as\nthey passed along the coast, wading in the sea, and bathing his wound.\nHe was guiding his footsteps as he walked, by means of the trunk of a\ntall pine which served him for a staff.\n\nAt length, however, after the lapse of a long period of time, and\nafter meeting with a great variety of adventures to which we can not\neven here allude, AEneas and his party reached the shores of Italy, at\nthe point which by divine intimations had been pointed out to them as\nthe place where they were to land.[D]\n\n[Footnote D: See Map, page 134.]\n\nThe story of the life and adventures of AEneas, which we have given in\nthis and in the preceding chapters, is a faithful summary of the\nnarrative which the poetic historians of those days recorded. It is,\nof course, not to be relied upon as a narrative of facts; but it is\nworthy of very special attention by every cultivated mind of the\npresent day, from the fact, that such is the beauty, the grace, the\nmelody, the inimitable poetic perfection with which the story is told,\nin the language in which the original record stands, that the\nnarrative has made a more deep, and widespread, and lasting impression\nupon the human mind than any other narrative perhaps that ever was\npenned.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE LANDING IN LATIUM.\n\nB.C. 1197-1190\n\nDescription of the country where AEneas landed.--The landing.--Mouth of\nthe Tiber.--Burning of the ships.--Italy in ancient days.--Sacrifices\noffered.--Map of Latium.--Reconnoitring the country.--King Latinus.--An\nembassy.--The embassy come to the capital.--The embassadors are\nadmitted to an audience.--Their address to king Latinus.--Latinus\naccedes to AEneas's requests.--Proposal of marriage.--Lavinia and\nTurnus.--The anger of Turnus at being set aside.--Lavinium.--Situation\nof the Trojan territory.--The story of Sylvia's stag.--Ascanius shoots\nthe stag.--The resentment of Sylvia's brothers.--Sudden outbreak.--Death\nof Almon.--Great excitement.--Preparation for war.--Latinus.--The\nTrojans gradually gain ground.--Desire for peace.--Turnus opposes\nit.--A proposal for single combat.--Result of the combat.--Marriage\nof AEneas.--AEneas drowned in the Numicius.\n\n\nLatium was the name given to an ancient province of Italy, lying south\nof the Tiber. At the time of AEneas's arrival upon the coast it was an\nindependent kingdom. The name of the king who reigned over it at this\nperiod was Latinus.\n\nThe country on the banks of the Tiber, where the city of Rome\nafterward arose, was then a wild but picturesque rural region,\nconsisting of hills and valleys, occupied by shepherds and husbandmen,\nbut with nothing upon it whatever, to mark it as the site of a city.\nThe people that dwelt in Latium were shepherds and herdsmen, though\nthere was a considerable band of warriors under the command of the\nking. The inhabitants of the country were of Greek origin, and they\nhad brought with them from Greece, when they colonized the country,\nsuch rude arts as were then known. They had the use of Cadmus's\nletters, for writing, so far as writing was employed at all in those\nearly days. They were skillful in making such weapons of war, and such\nsimple instruments of music, as were known at the time, and they could\nerect buildings, of wood, or of stone, and thus constructed such\ndwellings as they needed, in their towns, and walls and citadels for\ndefence.\n\nAEneas brought his fleet into the mouth of the Tiber, and anchored it\nthere. He himself, and all his followers were thoroughly weary of\ntheir wanderings, and hoped that they were now about to land where\nthey should find a permanent abode. The number of ships and men that\nhad formed the expedition at the commencement of the voyage, was very\nlarge; but it had been considerably diminished by the various\nmisfortunes and accidents incident to such an enterprise, and the\nremnant that was left longed ardently for rest. Some of the ships took\nfire, and were burned at their moorings in the Tiber, immediately\nafter the arrival of the expedition. It was said that they were set on\nfire by the wives and mothers belonging to the expedition,--who\nwished, by destroying the ships, to render it impossible for the fleet\nto go to sea again.\n\nHowever this may be, AEneas was very strongly disposed to make the\nbeautiful region which he now saw before him, his final home. The\ncountry, in every aspect of it, was alluring in the highest degree.\nLevel plains, varied here and there by gentle elevations, extended\naround him, all adorned with groves and flowers, and exhibiting a\nluxuriance in the verdure of the grass and in the foliage of the trees\nthat was perfectly enchanting to the sea-weary eyes of his company of\nmariners. In the distance, blue and beautiful mountains bounded the\nhorizon, and a soft, warm summer haze floated over the whole scene,\nbathing the landscape in a rich mellow light peculiar to Italian\nskies.\n\nAs soon as the disembarkation was effected, lines of encampment were\nmarked out, at a suitable place on the shore, and such simple\nfortifications as were necessary for defence in such a case, were\nthrown up. AEneas dispatched one party in boats to explore the various\npassages and channels which formed the mouth of the river, perhaps in\norder to be prepared to make good his escape again, to sea, in case of\nany sudden or extraordinary danger. Another party were employed in\nerecting altars, and preparing for sacrifices and other religious\ncelebrations, designed on the part of AEneas to propitiate the deities\nof the place, and to inspire his men with religious confidence and\ntrust. He also immediately proceeded to organize a party of\nreconnoiterers who were to proceed into the interior, to explore the\ncountry and to communicate with the inhabitants.\n\n[Illustration: MAP OF LATIUM.]\n\nThe party of reconnoiterers thus sent out followed up the banks of the\nriver, and made excursions in various directions across the fields and\nplains. They found that the country was everywhere verdant and\nbeautiful, and that it was covered in the interior with scattered\nhamlets and towns. They learned the name of the king, and also that of\nthe city which he made his capitol. Latinus himself, at the same time,\nheard the tidings of the arrival of these strangers. His first impulse\nwas immediately to make an onset upon them with all his forces, and\ndrive them away from his shores. On farther inquiry, however, he\nlearned that they were in a distressed and suffering condition, and\nfrom the descriptions which were given him of their dress and demeanor\nhe concluded that they were Greeks. This idea awakened in his mind\nsome apprehension; for the Greeks were then well known throughout the\nworld, and were regarded everywhere as terrible enemies. Besides his\nfears, his pity and compassion were awakened, too, in some degree; and\nhe was on the whole for a time quite at a loss to know what course to\npursue in respect to the intruders.\n\nIn the mean time AEneas concluded to send an embassy to Latinus to\nexplain the circumstances under which he had been induced to land so\nlarge a party on the Italian coast. He accordingly designated a\nconsiderable number of men to form this embassy, and giving to some of\nthe number his instructions as to what they were to say to Latinus, he\ncommitted to the hands of the others a large number of gifts which\nthey were to carry and present to him. These gifts consisted of\nweapons elaborately finished, vessels of gold or silver, embroidered\ngarments, and such other articles as were customarily employed in\nthose days as propitiatory offerings in such emergencies. The embassy\nwhen all was arranged proceeded to the Latin capital.\n\nWhen they came in sight of it they found that it was a spacious city,\nwith walls around it, and turrets and battlements within, rising here\nand there above the roofs of the dwellings. Outside the gates a\nportion of the population were assembled busily engaged in games, and\nin various gymnastic and equestrian performances. Some were driving\nfuriously in chariots around great circles marked out for the course.\nOthers were practicing feats of horsemanship, or running races upon\nfleet chargers. Others still were practicing with darts, or bows and\narrows, or javelins; either to test and improve their individual\nskill, or else to compete with each other for victory or for a prize.\nThe embassadors paused when they came in view of this scene, and\nwaited until intelligence could be sent in to the monarch, informing\nhim of their arrival.\n\nLatinus decided immediately to admit the embassy to an audience, and\nthey were accordingly conducted into the city. They were led, after\nentering by the gates, through various streets, until they came at\nlength to a large public edifice, which seemed to be, at the same\ntime, palace, senate-house, and citadel. There were to be seen, in the\navenues which led to this edifice, statues of old warriors, and\nvarious other martial decorations. There were many old trophies of\nformer victories preserved here, such as arms, and chariots, and prows\nof ships, and crests, and great bolts and bars taken from the gates of\nconquered cities,--all old, war-worn, and now useless, but preserved\nas memorials of bravery and conquest. The Trojan embassy, passing\nthrough and among these trophies, as they stood or hung in the halls\nand vestibules of the palace, were at length ushered into the presence\nof Latinus the king.\n\nHere, after the usual ceremonies of introduction were performed, they\ndelivered the message which AEneas had intrusted to them. They declared\nthat they had not landed on Latinus's shore with any hostile intent.\nThey had been driven away, they said, from their own homes, by a\nseries of dire calamities, which had ended, at last, in the total\ndestruction of their native city. Since then they had been driven to\nand fro at the mercy of the winds and waves, exposed to every\nconceivable degree of hardship and danger. Their landing finally in\nthe dominions of Latinus in Italy, was not, they confessed, wholly\nundesigned, for Latium had been divinely indicated to them, on their\nway, as the place destined by the decrees of heaven for their final\nhome. Following these indications, they had sought the shores of Italy\nand the mouths of the Tiber, and having succeeded in reaching them,\nhad landed; and now AEneas, their commander, desired of the king that\nhe would allow them to settle in his land in peace, and that he would\nset apart a portion of his territory for them, and give them leave to\nbuild a city.\n\nThe effect produced upon the mind of Latinus by the appearance of\nthese embassadors, and by the communication which they made to him,\nproved to be highly favorable. He received the presents, too, which\nthey had brought him, in a very gracious manner, and appeared to be\nmuch pleased with them. He had heard, as would seem, rumors of the\ndestruction of Troy, and of the departure of AEneas's squadron; for a\nlong time had been consumed by the wanderings of the expedition along\nthe Mediterranean shores, so that some years had now elapsed since the\ndestruction of Troy and the first sailing of the fleet. In a word,\nLatinus soon determined to accede to the proposals of his visitors,\nand he concluded with AEneas a treaty of alliance and friendship. He\ndesignated a spot where the new city might be built, and all things\nwere thus amicably settled.\n\nThere was one circumstance which exerted a powerful influence in\npromoting the establishment of friendly relations between Latinus and\nthe Trojans, and that was, that Latinus was engaged, at the time of\nAEneas's arrival, in a war with the Rutulians, a nation that inhabited\na country lying south of Latium and on the coast. Latinus thought that\nby making the Trojans his friends, he should be able to enlist them as\nhis auxiliaries in this war. AEneas made no objection to this, and it\nwas accordingly agreed that the Trojans, in return for being received\nas friends, and allowed to settle in Latium, were to join with their\nprotectors in defending the country, and were especially to aid them\nin prosecuting the existing war.\n\nIn a short time a still closer alliance was formed between AEneas and\nLatinus, an alliance which in the end resulted in the accession of\nAEneas to the throne of Latinus. Latinus had a daughter named Lavinia.\nShe was an only child, and was a princess of extraordinary merit and\nbeauty. The name of the queen, her mother, the wife of Latinus, was\nAmata. Amata had intended her daughter to be the wife of Turnus, a\nyoung prince of great character and promise, who had been brought up\nin Latinus's court. Turnus was, in fact, a distant relative of Amata,\nand the plan of the queen was that he should marry Lavinia, and in the\nend succeed with her, to the throne of Latinus. Latinus himself had\nnot entered into this scheme; and when closing his negotiations with\nAEneas, it seemed to him that it would be well to seal and secure the\nadherence of AEneas to his cause by offering him his daughter Lavinia\nfor his bride. AEneas was very willing to accede to this proposal. What\nthe wishes of Lavinia herself were in respect to the arrangement, it\nis not very well known; nor were her wishes, according to the ideas\nthat prevailed in those times, of any consequence whatever. The plan\nwas arranged, and the nuptials were soon to be celebrated. Turnus,\nwhen he found that he was to be superseded, left the court of Latinus,\nand went away out of the country in a rage.\n\nAEneas and his followers seemed now to have come to the end of all\ntheir troubles. They were at last happily established in a fruitful\nland, surrounded by powerful friends, and about to enter apparently\nupon a long career of peaceful and prosperous industry. They\nimmediately engaged with great ardor in the work of building their\ntown. AEneas had intended to have named it Troy, in commemoration of\nthe ancient city now no more. But, in view of his approaching\nmarriage with Lavinia, he determined to change this design, and, in\nhonor of her, to name the new capital Lavinium.\n\nThe territory which had been assigned to the Trojans by Latinus was in\nthe south-western part of Latium, near the coast, and of course it was\non the confines of the country of the Rutulians. Turnus, when he left\nLatium, went over to the Rutulians, determining, in his resentment\nagainst Latinus for having given Lavinia to his rival, to join them in\nthe war. The Rutulians made him their leader, and he soon advanced at\nthe head of a great army across the frontier, toward the new city of\nLavinium. Thus AEneas found himself threatened with a very formidable\ndanger.\n\nNor was this all. For just before the commencement of the war with\nTurnus, an extraordinary train of circumstances occurred which\nresulted in alienating the Latins themselves from their new ally, and\nin leaving AEneas consequently to sustain the shock of the contest with\nTurnus and his Rutulians alone. It would naturally be supposed that\nthe alliance between Latinus and AEneas would not be very favorably\nregarded by the common people of Latium. They would, on the other\nhand, naturally look with much jealousy and distrust on a company of\nforeign intruders, admitted by what they would be very likely to\nconsider the capricious partiality of their king, to a share of their\ncountry. This jealousy and distrust was, for a time, suppressed and\nconcealed; but the animosity only acquired strength and concentration\nby being restrained, and at length an event occurred which caused it\nto break forth with uncontrollable fury. The circumstances were these:\n\nThere was a man in Latium named Tyrrheus, who held the office of royal\nherdsman. He lived in his hut on some of the domains of Latinus, and\nhad charge of the flocks and herds belonging to the king. He had two\nsons, and likewise a daughter. The daughter's name was Sylvia. The two\nboys had one day succeeded in making prisoner of a young stag, which\nthey found in the woods with its mother. It was extremely young when\nthey captured it, and they brought it home as a great prize. They fed\nit with milk until it was old enough to take other food, and as it\ngrew up accustomed to their hands, it was very tame and docile, and\nbecame a great favorite with all the family. Sylvia loved and played\nwith it continually. She kept it always in trim by washing it in a\nfountain, and combing and smoothing its hair, and she amused herself\nby adorning it with wreaths, and garlands, and such other decorations\nas her sylvan resources could command.\n\n[Illustration: SILVIA'S STAG.]\n\nOne day when Ascanius, AEneas's son, who had now grown to be a young\nman, and who seems to have been characterized by a full share of the\nardent and impulsive energy belonging to his years, was returning from\nthe chase, he happened to pass by the place where the herdsman lived.\nAscanius was followed by his dogs, and he had his bow and arrows in\nhis hand. As he was thus passing along a copse of wood, near a brook,\nthe dogs came suddenly upon Sylvia's stag. The confiding animal,\nunconscious of any danger, had strayed away from the herdsman's\ngrounds to this grove, and had gone down to the brook to drink. The\ndogs immediately sprang upon him, in full cry. Ascanius followed,\ndrawing at the same time an arrow from his quiver and fitting it to\nthe bow. As soon as he came in sight of the stag, he let fly his\narrow. The arrow pierced the poor fugitive in the side, and inflicted\na dreadful wound. It did not, however, bring him down. The stag\nbounded on down the valley toward his home, as if to seek protection\nfrom Sylvia. He came rushing into the house, marking his way with\nblood, ran to the covert which Sylvia had provided for his\nresting-place at night, and crouching down there he filled the whole\ndwelling with piteous bleatings and cries.\n\nAs soon as Tyrrheus, the father of Sylvia, and the two young men, her\nbrothers, knew who it was that had thus wantonly wounded their\nfavorite, they were filled with indignation and rage. They went out\nand aroused the neighboring peasantry, who very easily caught the\nspirit of resentment and revenge which burned in the bosoms of\nTyrrheus and his sons. They armed themselves with clubs, firebrands,\nscythes, and such other rustic weapons as came to hand, and rushed\nforth, resolved to punish the overbearing insolence of their foreign\nvisitors, in the most summary manner.\n\nIn the mean time the Trojan youth, having heard the tidings of this\ndisturbance, began to gather hastily, but in great numbers, to defend\nAscanius. The parties on both sides were headstrong, and highly\nexcited; and before any of the older and more considerate chieftains\ncould interfere, a very serious conflict ensued. One of the sons of\nTyrrheus was killed. He was pierced in the throat by an arrow, and\nfell and died immediately. His name was Almon. He was but a boy, or at\nall events had not yet arrived at years of maturity, and his premature\nand sudden death added greatly to the prevailing excitement. Another\nman too was killed. At length the conflict was brought to an end for\nthe time but the excitement and the exasperation of the peasantry were\nextreme. They carried the two dead bodies in procession to the\ncapital, to exhibit them to Latinus; and they demanded, in the most\nearnest and determined manner, that he should immediately make war\nupon the whole Trojan horde, and drive them back into the sea, whence\nthey came.\n\nLatinus found it extremely difficult to withstand this torrent. He\nremained firm for a time, and made every exertion in his power to\nquell the excitement and to pacify the minds of his people. But all\nwas in vain. Public sentiment turned hopelessly against the Trojans,\nand AEneas soon found himself shut up in his city, surrounded with\nenemies, and left to his fate. Turnus was the leader of these foes.\n\nHe, however, did not despair. Both parties began to prepare vigorously\nfor war. AEneas himself went away with a few followers to some of the\nneighboring kingdoms, to get succor from them. Neighboring states are\nalmost always jealous of each other, and are easily induced to take\npart against each other, when involved in foreign wars. AEneas found\nseveral of the Italian princes who were ready to aid him, and he\nreturned to his camp with considerable reinforcements, and with\npromises of more. The war soon broke out, and was waged for a long\ntime with great determination on both sides and with varied success.\n\nLatinus, who was now somewhat advanced in life, and had thus passed\nbeyond the period of ambition and love of glory, and who besides must\nhave felt that the interests of his family were now indissolubly bound\nup in those of AEneas and Lavinia, watched the progress of the contest\nwith a very uneasy and anxious mind. He found that for a time at\nleast it would be out of his power to do any thing effectual to\nterminate the war, so he allowed it to take its course, and contented\nhimself with waiting patiently, in hopes that an occasion which would\nallow of his interposing with some hope of success, would sooner or\nlater come.\n\nSuch an occasion did come; for after the war had been prosecuted for\nsome time it was found, that notwithstanding the disadvantages under\nwhich the Trojans labored, they were rather gaining than losing\nground. There were in fact some advantages as well as some\ndisadvantages in their position. They formed a compact and\nconcentrated body, while their enemies constituted a scattered\npopulation, spreading in a more or less exposed condition over a\nconsiderable extent of country. They had neither flocks nor herds, nor\nany other property for their enemies to plunder, while the Rutulians\nand Latins had great possessions, both of treasure in the towns and of\nrural produce in the country, so that when the Trojans gained the\nvictory over them in any sally or foray, they always came home laden\nwith booty, as well as exultant in triumph and pride; while if the\nLatins conquered the Trojans in a battle, they had nothing but the\nempty honor to reward them. The Trojans, too, were hardy, enduring,\nand indomitable. The alternative with them was victory or destruction.\nTheir protracted voyage, and the long experience of hardships and\nsufferings which they had undergone, had inured them to privation and\ntoil, so that they proved to the Latins and Rutulians to be very\nobstinate and formidable foes.\n\nAt length, as usual in such cases, indications gradually appeared that\nboth sides began to be weary of the contest. Latinus availed himself\nof a favorable occasion which offered, to propose that embassadors\nshould be sent to AEneas with terms of peace. Turnus was very much\nopposed to any such plan. He was earnestly desirous of continuing to\nprosecute the war. The other Latin chieftains reproached him then with\nbeing the cause of all the calamities which they were enduring, and\nurged the unreasonableness on his part of desiring any longer to\nprotract the sufferings of his unhappy country, merely to gratify his\nown private resentment and revenge. Turnus ought not any longer to\nask, they said, that others should fight in his quarrel; and they\nproposed that he should himself decide the question between him and\nAEneas, by challenging the Trojan leader to fight him in single combat.\n\nLatinus strongly disapproved of this proposal. He was weary of war and\nbloodshed, and wished that the conflict might wholly cease; and he\nurged that peace should be made with AEneas, and that his original\ndesign of giving him Lavinia for his wife should be carried into\nexecution. For a moment Turnus seemed to hesitate, but in looking\ntowards Lavinia who, with Amata her mother, was present at this\nconsultation, he saw, or thought he saw, in the agitation which she\nmanifested, proofs of her love for him, and indications of a wish on\nher part that he and not AEneas should win her for his bride.\n\nHe accordingly without any farther hesitation or delay agreed to the\nproposal of the counsellor. The challenge to single combat was given\nand accepted, and on the appointed day the ground was marked out for\nthe duel, and both armies were drawn up upon the field, to be\nspectators of the fight.\n\nAfter the usual preparations the conflict began; but, as frequently\noccurs in such cases, it was not long confined to the single pair of\ncombatants with which it commenced. Others were gradually drawn in,\nand the duel became in the end a general battle. AEneas and the Trojans\nwere victorious, and both Latinus and Turnus were slain. This ended\nthe war. AEneas married Lavinia, and thenceforth reigned with her over\nthe kingdom of Latium as its rightful sovereign.\n\nAEneas lived several years after this, and has the credit, in history,\nof having managed the affairs of the kingdom in a very wise and\nprovident manner. He had brought with him from Troy the arts and the\nlearning of the Greeks, and these he introduced to his people so as\ngreatly to improve their condition. He introduced, too, many\nceremonies of religious worship, which had prevailed in the countries\nfrom which he had come, or in those which he had visited in his long\nvoyage. These ceremonies became at last so firmly established among\nthe religious observances of the inhabitants of Latium, that they\ndescended from generation to generation, and in subsequent years\nexercised great influence, in modeling the religious faith and worship\nof the Roman people. They thus continued to be practiced for many\nages, and, through the literature of the Romans, became subsequently\nknown and celebrated throughout the whole civilized world.\n\nAt length, in a war which AEneas was waging with the Rutulians, he was\nonce, after a battle, reduced to great extremity of danger, and in\norder to escape from his pursuers he attempted to swim across a\nstream, and was drowned. The name of this stream was Numicius. It\nflowed into the sea a little north of Lavinium. It must have been\nlarger in former times than it is now, for travelers who visit it at\nthe present day say that it is now only a little rivulet, in which it\nwould be almost impossible for any one to be drowned.\n\nThe Trojan followers of AEneas concealed his body, and spread the story\namong the people of Latium that he had been taken up to heaven. The\npeople accordingly, having before considered their king as the son of\na goddess, now looked upon him as himself divine. They accordingly\nerected altars to him in Latium, and thenceforth worshiped him as a\nGod.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nRHEA SILVIA.\n\nB.C. 800\n\nRhea Silvia.--The order of vestal virgins.--The ancient\nfocus.--Arrangement for fire.--Nature of the ceremonies instituted in\nhonor of Vesta.--Her vestal virgins.--Their duties.--Terrible punishment\nfor those who violated their vows.--Similar observances in modern\ntimes.--Influence of the vestal institution.--Ceremonies.--Qualifications\nof the candidate.--Term of service.--The sacred fire.--Punishment for\nneglect of duty.--Question in regard to the succession.--Origin of the\nname Silvius.--History of Ascanius.--His war with Mezentius.--The\nTrojans victorious.--Settlement of the kingdom.--Lavinia recalled.--The\nbuilding of Alba Longa.--Situation of Alba Longa.--The name.--Successor\nto Ascanius.--Perplexing question.--Settlement of the\nquestion.--Tiberinus.--The story of Alladius and his thunder.--Death of\nAlladius.--Superstitions.--Numitor and Amulius.--Their respective\ncharacters.--Division of their father's possessions.--Policy of\nNumitor.--Death of Egestus.--Rhea enters upon her duties as a vestal\nvirgin.--Unexpected events announced.\n\n\nRhea Silvia, the mother of Romulus, was a vestal virgin, who lived in\nthe kingdom of Latium about four hundred years after the death of\nAEneas. A vestal virgin was a sort of priestess, who was required, like\nthe nuns of modern times, to live in seclusion from the rest of the\nworld, and devote their time wholly and without reserve to the\nservices of religion. They were, like nuns, especially prohibited from\nall association and intercourse with men.\n\nAEneas himself is said to have founded the order of vestal virgins, and\nto have instituted the rites and services which were committed to\ntheir charge. These rites and services were in honor of Vesta, who was\nthe goddess of Home. The fireside has been, in all ages and countries,\nthe center and the symbol of home, and the worship of Vesta consisted,\naccordingly, of ceremonies designed to dignify and exalt the fireside\nin the estimation of the people. Instead of the images and altars\nwhich were used in the worship of the other deities, a representation\nof a _fire-stand_ was made, such as were used in the houses of those\ndays; and upon this sacred stand a fire was kept continually burning,\nand various rites and ceremonies were performed in connection with it,\nin honor of the domestic virtues and enjoyments, of which it was the\ntype and symbol.\n\nThese fire-stands, as used by the ancients, were very different from\nthe fire-places of modern times, which are recesses in chimneys with\nflues above for the passage of the smoke. The household fires of the\nancients were placed in the center of the apartment, on a hearth or\nsupporter called the _focus_. This hearth was made sometimes of stone\nor brick, and sometimes of bronze. The smoke escaped above, through\nopenings in the roof. This would seem, according to the ideas of the\npresent day, a very comfortless arrangement; but it must be remembered\nthat the climate in those countries was mild, and there was\naccordingly but little occasion for fire; and then, besides, such were\nthe habits of the people at this period of the world, that not only\ntheir pursuits and avocations, but far the greater portion of their\npleasures, called them into the open air. Still, the fire-place was,\nwith them as with us, the type and emblem of domestic life; and\naccordingly, in paying divine honors to Vesta, the goddess of Home,\nthey set up a _focus_, or fire-place, in her temple, instead of an\naltar, and in the place of sacrifices they simply kept burning upon it\na perpetual fire.\n\nThe priestesses who had charge of the fire were selected for this\npurpose when they were children. It was required that they should be\nfrom six to ten years of age. When chosen they were consecrated to the\nservice of Vesta by the most solemn ceremonies, and as virgins, were\nbound under awful penalties, to spotless purity of life. As the\nperpetual fire in the temple of Vesta represented the fire of the\ndomestic hearth, so these vestal virgins represented the maidens by\nwhom the domestic service of a household is performed; and the life of\nseclusion and celibacy which was required of them was the emblem of\nthe innocence and purity which the institution of the family is\nexpressly intended to guard. The duties of the vestals were analogous\nto those of domestic maidens. They were to watch the fire, and never\nto allow it to go out. They were to perform various rites and\nceremonies connected with the worship of Vesta and to keep the\ninterior of the temple and the shrines pure and clean, and the sacred\nvessels and utensils arranged, as in a well-ordered household. In a\nword, they were to be, in purity, in industry, in neatness, in order,\nand in patience and vigilance, the perfect impersonation of maidenly\nvirtue as exhibited in its own proper field of duty at home.\n\nThe most awful penalties were visited upon the head of any vestal\nvirgin who was guilty of violating her vows. There is no direct\nevidence what these penalties were at this early period, but in\nsubsequent years, at Rome, where the vestal virgins resided, the man\nwho was guilty of enticing one of them away from her duty was publicly\nscourged to death in the Roman forum. For the vestal herself, thus led\naway, a cell was dug beneath the ground, and vaulted over. A pit led\ndown to this subterranean dungeon, entering it by one side. In the\ndungeon itself there was placed a table, a lamp, and a little food.\nThe descent was by a ladder which passed down through the pit. The\nplace of this terrible preparation for punishment was near one of the\ngates of the city, and when all was ready the unhappy vestal was\nbrought forth, at the head of a great public procession,--she herself\nbeing attended by her friends and relatives, all mourning and\nlamenting her fate by the way. The ceremony, in a word, was in all\nrespects a funeral, except that the person who was to be buried was\nstill alive. On arriving at the spot, the wretched criminal was\nconducted down the ladder and placed upon the couch in the cell. The\nassistants who performed this service then returned; the ladder was\ndrawn up; earth was thrown in until the pit was filled; and the erring\ngirl was left to her fate, which was, when her lamp had burned out,\nand her food was expended, to starve by slow degrees, and die at last\nin darkness and despair.\n\nIf we would do full justice to the ancient founders of civilization\nand empire, we should probably consider their enshrinement of Vesta,\nand the contriving of the ceremonies and observances which were\ninstituted in honor of her, not as the setting up of an idol or false\ngod, for worship, in the sense in which Christian nations worship the\nspiritual and eternal Jehovah--but rather as the embodiment of an\nidea,--a principle,--as the best means, in those rude ages, of\nattracting to it the general regard.\n\nEven in our own days, and in Christian lands, men erect a pole in\nhonor of liberty, and surmount it with the image of a cap. And if,\ninstead of the cap, they were to place a carved effigy of liberty\nabove, and to assemble for periodical celebrations below, with games,\nand music, and banners, we should not probably call them idolaters. So\nChristian poets write odes and invocations to Peace, to\nDisappointment, to Spring, to Beauty, in which they impersonate an\nidea, or a principle, and address it in the language of adoration, as\nif it were a sentient being, possessing magical and mysterious powers.\nIn the same manner, the rites and celebrations of ancient times are\nnot necessarily all to be considered as idolatry, and denounced as\ninexcusably wicked and absurd. Our fathers set up an image in honor of\nliberty, to strengthen the influence of the love of liberty on the\npopular mind. It is possible that AEneas looked upon the subject in the\nsame light, in erecting a public fireside in honor of domestic peace\nand happiness, and in designating maidens to guard it with constant\nvigilance and with spotless purity. At all events, the institution\nexercised a vast and an incalculable power, in impressing the minds of\nmen, in those rude ages, with a sense of the sacredness of the\ndomestic tie, and in keeping before their minds a high standard, in\ntheory at least, of domestic honor and purity. We must remember that\nthey had not then the word of God, nor any means of communicating to\nthe minds of the people any general enlightenment and instruction.\nThey were obliged, therefore, to resort to the next best method which\ntheir ingenuity could devise.\n\nThere were a great many very extraordinary rites and ceremonies\nconnected with the service of the vestal altar, and many singular\nregulations for the conduct of it, the origin and design of which it\nwould now be very difficult to ascertain. As has already been\nremarked, the virgins were chosen when very young, being, when\ndesignated to the office, not under six nor over ten years of age.\nThey were chosen by the king, and it was necessary that the candidate,\nbesides the above-named requisite in regard to age, should be in a\nperfect condition of soundness and health in respect to all her bodily\nlimbs and members, and also to the faculties of her mind. It was\nrequired too that she should be the daughter of free and freeborn\nparents, who had never been in slavery, and had never followed any\nmenial or degrading occupation; and also that both her parents should\nbe living. To be an orphan was considered, it seems, in some sense an\nimperfection.\n\nThe service of the vestal virgins continued for thirty years; and when\nthis period had expired, the maidens were discharged from their vows,\nand were allowed, if they chose, to lay aside their vestal robes, and\nthe other emblems of their office, and return to the world, with the\nprivilege even of marrying, if they chose to do so. Though the laws\nhowever permitted this, there was a public sentiment against it, and\nit was seldom that any of the vestal priestesses availed themselves of\nthe privilege. They generally remained after their term of service had\nexpired, in attendance at the temple, and died as they had lived in\nthe service of the goddess.\n\nOne of the chief functions of the virgins, in their service in the\ntemple, was to keep the sacred fire perpetually burning. This fire was\nnever to go out, and if, by any neglect on the part of the vestal in\nattendance, this was allowed to occur, the guilty maiden was punished\nterribly by scourging. The punishment was inflicted by the hands of\nthe highest pontifical officer of the state. The laws of the\ninstitution however evinced their high regard for the purity and\nmodesty of the vestal maidens by requiring that the blows should be\nadministered in the dark, the sufferer having been previously prepared\nto receive them by being partially undressed by her female attendants.\nThe extinguished fire was then rekindled with many solemn ceremonies.\n\nRhea Silvia, the mother of Romulus, was, we repeat, a vestal virgin.\nShe lived four hundred years after the death of AEneas. During these\nfour centuries, the kingdom had been governed by the descendants of\nAEneas, generally in a peaceful and prosperous manner, although some\ndifficulties occurred in the establishment of the succession\nimmediately after AEneas's death. It will be remembered that AEneas was\ndrowned during the continuance of the war. He left one son, and\nperhaps others. The one who figured most conspicuously in the\nsubsequent history of the kingdom, was Ascanius, the son who had\naccompanied AEneas from Troy, and who had now attained to years of\nmaturity. He, of course, on his father's death, immediately succeeded\nhim.\n\nThere was some question, however, whether, after all, Lavinia herself\nwas not entitled to the kingdom. It was doubtful, according to the\nlaws and usages of those days, whether AEneas held the realm in his own\nright, or as the husband of Lavinia, who was the daughter and heir of\nLatinus, the ancient and legitimate king. Lavinia, however, seemed to\nhave no disposition to assert her claim. She was of a mild and gentle\nspirit; and, besides, her health was at that time such as to lead her\nto wish for retirement and repose. She even had some fears for her\npersonal safety, not knowing but that Ascanius would be suspicious and\njealous of her on account of her claims to the throne, and that he\nmight be tempted to do her some injury. Her husband had been her only\nprotector among the Trojans, and now, since he was no more, and\nanother, who was in some sense her rival, had risen to power, she\nnaturally felt insecure. She accordingly took the first opportunity to\nretire from Lavinium. She went away into the forests in the interior\nof the country, with a very few attendants and friends, and concealed\nherself there in a safe retreat. The family that received and\nsheltered her was that of Tyrrheus, the chief of her father's\nshepherds, whose children's stag Ascanius had formerly killed. Here,\nin a short time, she had a son. She determined to name him from his\nfather; and in order to commemorate his having been born in the midst\nof the wild forest scenes which surrounded her at the time of his\nbirth, she called him in full, AEneas of the woods, or, as it was\nexpressed in the language which was then used in Latium, AEneas\nSilvius. The boy, when he grew up, was always known by this name in\nsubsequent history.\n\nAnd not only did he himself retain the name, but he transmitted it to\nhis posterity, for all the kings that afterward descended from him,\nextending in a long line through a period of four hundred years, had\nthe word Silvius affixed to their names, in perpetual commemoration of\nthe romantic birth of their ancestor. Rhea, the mother of Romulus, of\nwhom we have already spoken, and of whom we shall presently have\noccasion to speak still more, was Rhea _Silvia_, by reason of her\nhaving been by birth a princess of this royal line.\n\nAscanius, in the mean time, on the death of his father, was for a time\nso engrossed in the prosecution of the war, that he paid but little\nattention to the departure of Lavinia. The name of the king of the\nRutulians who fought against him was Mezentius. Mezentius had a son\nnamed Lausus, and both father and son were personally serving in the\narmy by which Ascanius was besieged in Lavinium. Mezentius had command\nin the camp, at the head-quarters of the army, which was at some\ndistance from the city. Lausus headed an advanced guard, which had\nestablished itself strongly at a post which they had taken near the\ngates. In this state of things, Ascanius, one dark and stormy night,\nplanned a sortie. He organized a desperate body of followers, and\nafter watching the flashes of lightning for a time, to find omens from\nthem indicating success, he gave the signal. The gates were opened and\nthe column of armed men sallied forth, creeping noiselessly forward\nin the darkness and gloom, until they came to the encampment of\nLausus. They fell upon this camp with an irresistible rush, and with\nterrific shouts and outcries. The whole detachment were taken entirely\nby surprise, and great numbers were made prisoners or slain. Lausus\nhimself was killed.\n\nExcited by their victory, the Trojan soldiers, headed by Ascanius, now\nturned their course toward the main body of the Rutulian army.\nMezentius had, however, in the mean time, obtained warning of their\napproach, and when they reached his camp he was ready to retreat. He\nfled with all his forces toward the mountains. Ascanius and the\nTrojans followed him. Mezentius halted and attempted to fortify\nhimself on a hill. Ascanius surrounded the hill, and soon compelled\nhis enemies to come to terms. A treaty was made, and Mezentius and his\nforces soon after withdrew from the country, leaving Ascanius and\nLatium in peace.\n\nAscanius then, after having in some degree settled his affairs, began\nto think of Lavinia. In fact, the Latin portion of his subjects\nseemed disposed to murmur and complain, at her having been compelled\nto withdraw from her own paternal kingdom, in order to leave the\nthrone to the occupancy of the son of a stranger. Some even feared\nthat she had come to some harm, or that Ascanius might in the end put\nher to death when time had been allowed for the recollection of her to\npass in some degree from the minds of men. So the public began\ngenerally to call for Lavinia's return.\n\nAscanius seems to have been well disposed to do justice in the case,\nfor he not only sought out Lavinia and induced her to return to the\ncapital with her little son, but he finally concluded to give up\nLavinium to her entirely, as her own rightful dominion, while he went\naway and founded a new city for himself. He accordingly explored the\ncountry around for a favorable site, and at length decided upon a spot\nnearly north of Lavinium, and not many miles distant from it. The\nplace which he marked out for the walls of the city was at the foot of\na mountain, on a tract of somewhat elevated ground, which formed one\nof the lower declivities of it. The mountain, rising abruptly on one\nside, formed a sure defense on that side: on the other side was a\nsmall lake, of clear and pellucid water. In front, and somewhat\nbelow, there were extended plains of fertile land. Ascanius, after\nhaving determined on this place as the site of his intended city, set\nhis men at work to make the necessary constructions. Some built the\nwalls of the city, and laid out streets and erected houses within.\nOthers were employed in forming the declivity of the mountain above\ninto terraces, for the cultivation of the vine. The slopes which they\nthus graded had a southern exposure, and the grapes which subsequently\ngrew there were luxurious and delicious in flavor. From the little\nlake channels were cut leading over the plains below, and by this\nmeans a constant supply of water could be conveyed to the fields of\ngrain which were to be sown there, for purposes of irrigation. Thus\nthe place which Ascanius chose furnished all possible facilities both\nfor maintaining, and also for defending the people who were to make it\ntheir abode. The town was called Alba Longa, that is long Alba. It was\ncalled _long_ to distinguish it from another Alba. It was really long\nin its form, as the buildings extended for a considerable distance\nalong the border of the lake.\n\nAscanius reigned over thirty years at Alba Longa, while Lavinia\nreigned at Lavinium, each friendly to the other and governing the\ncountry at large, together, in peace and harmony. In process of time\nboth died. Ascanius left a son whose name was Iulus, while AEneas\nSilvius was Lavinia's heir.\n\nThere was, of course, great diversity of opinion throughout the nation\nin regard to the comparative claims of these two princes,\nrespectively. Some maintained that AEneas the Trojan became, by\nconquest, the rightful sovereign of Latium, irrespective of any rights\nthat he acquired through his marriage with Lavinia, and that Iulus, as\nthe son of his eldest son, rightfully succeeded him. Others contended\nthat Lavinia represented the ancient and the truly legitimate royal\nline, and that AEneas Silvius, as her son and heir, ought to be placed\nupon the throne. And there were those who proposed to compromise the\nquestion, by dividing Latium into two separate kingdoms, giving up one\npart to Iulus, with Alba Longa for its capital, and the other, with\nLavinium for its capital, to AEneas Silvius, Lavinia's heir. This\nproposition was, however, overruled. The two kingdoms, thus formed\nwould be small and feeble, it was thought, and unable to defend\nthemselves against the other Italian nations in case of war. The\nquestion was finally settled by a different sort of compromise. It was\nagreed that Latium should retain its integrity, and that AEneas\nSilvius, being the son both of AEneas and Lavinia, and thus\nrepresenting both branches of the reigning power, should be the king,\nwhile Iulus and his descendants forever, should occupy the position,\nscarcely less inferior, of sovereign power in matters of religion.\nAEneas Silvius, therefore, and his descendants, became _kings_, and as\nsuch commanded the armies and directed the affairs of state, while\nIulus and his family were exalted, in connection with them, to the\nhighest pontifical dignities.\n\nThis state of things, once established, continued age after age, and\ncentury after century, for about four hundred years. No records, and\nvery few traditions in respect to what occurred during this period\nremain. One circumstance, however, took place which caused itself to\nbe remembered. There was one king in the line of the Silvii, whose\nname was Tiberinus. In one of his battles with the armies of the\nnation adjoining him on the northern side, he attempted to swim across\nthe river that formed the frontier. He was forced down by the current,\nand was seen no more. By the accident, however, he gave the name of\nTiber to the stream, and thus perpetuated his own memory through the\nsubsequent renown of the river in which he was drowned. Before this\ntime the river was called the Albula.\n\nAnother incident is related, which is somewhat curious, as\nillustrating the ideas and customs of the times. One of this Silvian\nline of sovereigns was named Alladius. This Alladius conceived the\nidea of making the people believe that he was a god, and in order to\naccomplish this end he resorted to the contrivance of imitating, by\nartificial means, the sound of the rumbling of thunder and the flashes\nof lightning at night from his palace on the banks of the lake at Alba\nLonga. He employed, probably, for this purpose some means similar to\nthose resorted to for the same end in theatrical spectacles at the\npresent day. The people, however were not deceived by this imposture,\nthough they soon after fell into an error nearly as absurd as\nbelieving in this false thunder would have been; for, on an occasion\nwhich occurred not long afterward, probably that of a great storm\naccompanied with torrents of rain upon the mountains around, the lake\nrose so high as to produce an inundation, in which the water broke\ninto the palace, and the pretended thunderer was drowned. The people\nconsidered that he was destroyed thus by the special interposition of\nheaven, to punish him for his impiety in daring to assume what was\nthen considered the peculiar attribute and prerogative of supreme\ndivinity. In fact, the rumor circulated, and one historian has\nrecorded it as true, that Alladius was struck by the lightning which\naccompanied the storm, and thus killed at once by the terrible agency\nwhich he had presumed to counterfeit, before the inundation of the\npalace came on. If he met his death in any sudden and unusual manner,\nit is not at all surprising that his fate should have been attributed\nto the judgment of God, for thunder was regarded in those days with an\nextreme and superstitious veneration and awe. All this is, however,\nnow changed. Men have learned to understand thunder, and to protect\nthemselves from its power; and now, since Franklin and Morse have\ncommenced the work of subduing the potent and mysterious agent in\nwhich it originates, to the human will, the presumption is not very\nstrong against the supposition that the time may come when human\nscience may actually produce it in the sky--as it is now produced, in\neffect, upon the lecturer's table.\n\nAt last, toward the close of the four hundred years during which the\ndynasty of the Silvii continued to reign over Latium, a certain\nmonarch of the series died, leaving two children, Numitor and Amulius.\nNumitor was the eldest son, and as such entitled to succeed his\nfather. But he was of a quiet and somewhat inefficient disposition,\nwhile his younger brother was ardent and ambitious, and very likely to\naspire to the possession of power. The father, it seems, anticipated\nthe possibility of dissension between his sons after his death, and in\norder to do all in his power to guard against it, he endeavored to\narrange and settle the succession before he died. In the course of the\nnegotiations which ensued, Amulius proposed that his father's\npossessions should be divided into two portions, the kingdom to\nconstitute one, and the wealth and treasures the other, and that\nNumitor should choose which portion he would have. This proposal\nseemed to have the appearance, at least, of reasonableness and\nimpartiality; and it would have been really very reasonable, if the\nright to the inheritance thus disposed of, had belonged equally to the\nyounger and to the elder son. But it did not. And thus the offer of\nAmulius was, in effect, a proposition to divide with himself that\nwhich really belonged wholly to his brother.\n\nNumitor, however, who, it seems, was little disposed to contend for\nhis rights, agreed to this proposal. He, however, chose the kingdom,\nand left the wealth for his brother; and the inheritance was\naccordingly thus divided on the death of the father. But Amulius, as\nsoon as he came into possession of his treasures, began to employ them\nas a means of making powerful friends, and strengthening his political\ninfluence. In due time he usurped the throne, and Numitor, giving up\nthe contest with very little attempt to resist the usurpation, fled\nand concealed himself in some obscure place of retreat. He had,\nhowever, two children, a son and a daughter, which he left behind him\nin his flight. Amulius feared that these children might, at some\nfuture time, give him trouble, by advancing claims as their father's\nheirs. He did not dare to kill them openly, for fear of exciting the\npopular odium against himself. He was obliged, therefore, to resort to\nstratagem.\n\nThe son, whose name was Egestus, he caused to be slain at a hunting\nparty, by employing remorseless and desperate men to shoot him, in the\nheat of the chase, with arrows, or thrust him through with a spear,\nwatching their opportunity for doing this at a moment when they were\nnot observed, or when it might appear to be an accident. The daughter,\nwhose name was Rhea--the Rhea Silvia named at the commencement of this\nchapter--he could not well actually destroy, without being known to be\nher murderer; and perhaps too, he had enough remaining humanity to be\nunwilling to shed the blood of a helpless and beautiful maiden, the\ndaughter, too, of his own brother. Then, besides, he had a daughter of\nhis own named Antho, who was the playmate and companion of Rhea, and\nwith whose affection for her cousin he must have felt some sympathy.\nHe would not, therefore, destroy the child, but contented himself\nwith determining to make her a vestal virgin. By this means she would\nbe solemnly set apart to a religious service, which would incapacitate\nher from aspiring to the throne; and by being cut off, by her vestal\nvows, from all possibility of forming any domestic ties, she could\nnever, he thought, have any offspring to dispute his claim to the\nthrone.\n\nThere was nothing very extraordinary in this consecration of his\nniece, princess as she was, to the service of the vestal fire; for it\nhad been customary for children of the highest rank to be designated\nto this office. The little Rhea, for she was yet a child when her\nuncle took this determination in respect to her, made, as would\nappear, no objection to what she perhaps considered a distinguished\nhonor. The ceremonies, therefore, of her consecration were duly\nperformed; she took the vows, and bound herself by the most awful\nsanctions--unconscious, however, perhaps, herself of what she was\ndoing--to lead thenceforth a life of absolute celibacy and seclusion.\n\nShe was then received into the temple of Vesta, and there, with the\nother maidens who had been consecrated before her, she devoted\nherself to the discharge of the duties of her office, without\nreproach, for several years. At length, however, certain circumstances\noccurred, which suddenly terminated Rhea's career as a vestal virgin,\nand led to results of the most momentous character. What these\ncircumstances were, will be explained in the next chapter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nTHE TWINS.\n\nB.C. 774-755\n\nThe temple of Mars at Alba.--Its situation.--Rhea's fault.--Her\nexcuse.--The wolf story.--Rhea in trouble.--Birth of her\nsons.--Antho.--The anger of Amulius.--Rhea imprisoned.--Faustulus.--His\nplan.--The box that he made.--He follows the stream.--The children\nthrown out upon the sand.--The wolf.--The woodpecker.--The children\nrescued by Faustulus.--He carries the children home.--Their\neducation.--The character of the boys.--Romulus and Remus are generous\nand brave.--Quarrel among the herdsmen.--Remus is suddenly made\nprisoner.--Heavy charges against Remus.--Remus before Numitor and\nAmulius.--Remus gives an account of himself.--Numitor learns the\ntruth.--Romulus.--Romulus plans a rebellion.--Faustulus and the\narts.--Faustulus stopped at the gates of the city.--Faustulus is greatly\nembarrassed.--Amulius is alarmed.--He sends for Numitor.--Romulus\nassaults the city.--The revolt is successful.--Amulius is slain.\n\n\nAlthough the temple of Vesta itself, at Alba Longa, was the principal\nscene of the duties which devolved upon the vestal virgins, still they\nwere not wholly confined in their avocations to that sacred edifice,\nbut were often called upon, one or two at a time, to perform services,\nor to assist in the celebration of rites, at other places in the city\nand vicinity.\n\n[Illustration: RHEA SILVIA.]\n\nThere was a temple consecrated to Mars near to Alba. It was situated\nin an opening in the woods, in some little glen or valley at the base\nof the mountain. There was a stream of water running through the\nground, and Rhea in the performance of her duties as a vestal was\nrequired at one time to pass to and fro through the groves in this\nsolitary place to fetch water. Here she allowed herself, in violation\nof her vestal vows, to form the acquaintance of a man, whom she met in\nthe groves. She knew well that by doing so she made herself subject\nto the most dreadful penalties in case her fault should become known.\nStill she yielded to the temptation, and allowed herself to be\npersuaded to remain with the stranger. She said afterward, when the\nfacts were brought to light, that her meeting with this companion was\nwholly unintentional on her part. She saw a wolf in the grove, she\nsaid, and she ran terrified into a cave to escape from him, and that\nthe man came to her there, to protect her, and then compelled her to\nremain with him. Besides, from his dress, and countenance, and air,\nshe had believed him, she said, to be the God Mars himself, and\nthought that it was not her duty to resist his will.\n\nHowever this may be, her stolen interview or interviews with this\nstranger were not known at the time, and Rhea perhaps thought that her\nfault would never be discovered. Some weeks after this, however, it\nwas observed by her companions and friends that she began to appear\nthoughtful and depressed. Her dejection increased day by day; her face\nbecame wan and pale, and her eyes were often filled with tears. They\nasked her what was the cause of her trouble. She said that she was\nsick. She was soon afterward excused from her duties in the Vestal\ntemple, and went away, and remained for some time shut up in\nretirement and seclusion. There at length two children, twins, were\nborn to her.\n\nIt was only through the influence of Antho, Rhea's cousin, that the\nunhappy vestal was not put to death by Amulius, before her children\nwere born, at the time when her fault was first discovered. The laws\nof the State in respect to vestal virgins, which were inexorably\nsevere, would have justified him in causing her to be executed at\nonce, but Antho interceded so earnestly for her unhappy cousin, that\nAmulius for a time spared her life. When, however, her sons were born,\nthe anger of Amulius broke out anew. If she had remained childless he\nwould probably have allowed her to live, though she could of course\nnever have been restored to her office in the temple of Vesta. Or if\nshe had given birth to a daughter she might have been pardoned, since\na daughter, on account of her sex, would have been little likely to\ndisturb Amulius in the possession of the kingdom. But the existence of\ntwo sons, born directly in the line of the succession, and each of\nthem having claims superior to his own, endangered, most imminently,\nhe perceived, his possession of power. He was of course greatly\nenraged.\n\nHe caused Rhea to be shut up in close imprisonment, and as for the\nboys, he ordered them to be thrown into the Tiber. The Tiber was at\nsome considerable distance from Alba; but it was probably near the\nplace where Rhea had resided in her retirement, and where the children\nwere born.\n\nA peasant of that region was intrusted with the task of throwing the\nchildren into the river. Whether his official duty in undertaking this\ncommission required him actually to drown the boys, or whether he was\nallowed to give the helpless babes some little chance for their lives,\nis not known. At all events he determined that in committing the\nchildren to the stream he would so arrange it that they should float\naway from his sight, in order that he might not himself be a witness\nof their dying struggles and cries. He accordingly put them upon a\nspecies of float that he made,--a sort of box or trough, as would seem\nfrom the ancient descriptions, which he had hollowed out from a\nlog,--and disposing their little limbs carefully within this narrow\nreceptacle, he pushed the frail boat, with its navigators still more\nfrail, out upon the current of the river.\n\n[Illustration: FAUSTULUS AND THE TWINS.]\n\nThe name of the peasant who performed this task was Faustulus. The\npeasant also who subsequently,--as will hereafter appear,--found and\ntook charge of the children, is spoken of by the ancient historians as\nFaustulus, too. In fact we might well suppose that no man, however\nrustic and rude, could give his time and his thoughts to two such\nbabes long enough to make an ark for them, for the purpose of making\nit possible to save their lives, and then place them carefully in it\nto send them away, without becoming so far interested in their fate,\nand so touched by their mute and confiding helplessness, as to feel\nprompted to follow the stream to see how so perilous a navigation\nwould end. We have, however, no direct evidence that Faustulus did so\nwatch the progress of his boat down the river. The story is that it\nwas drifted along, now whirling in eddies, and now shooting down over\nrapid currents, until at last, at a bend in the river, it was thrown\nupon the beach, and being turned over by the concussion, the children\nwere rolled out upon the sand.\n\nThe neighboring thickets soon of course resounded with their plaintive\ncries. A mother wolf who was sleeping there came out to see what was\nthe matter. Now a mother, of whatever race, is irresistibly drawn by\nan _instinct_, if incapable of a _sentiment_, of affection, to love\nand to cherish any thing that is newly born. The wolf caressed the\nhelpless babes, imagining perhaps that they were her own offspring;\nand lying down by their side she cherished and fed them, watching all\nthe time with a fierce and vigilant eye for any approaching enemy or\ndanger. The rude nursery might very naturally be supposed to be in\ndangerous proximity to the water, but it happened that the river, when\nthe babes were set adrift in it, was very high, from the effect of\nrains upon the mountains, and thus soon after the children were thrown\nupon the land, the water began to subside. In a short time it wholly\nreturned to its accustomed channel, leaving the children on the warm\nsand, high above all danger. The wolf was not their only guardian. A\nwoodpecker, the tradition says, watched over them too, and brought\nthem berries and other sylvan food. The reader will perhaps be\ndisposed to hesitate a little in receiving this last statement for\nsober history, but as no part of the whole narrative will bear any\nvery rigid scrutiny, we may as well take the story of the woodpecker\nalong with the rest.\n\nIn a short time the children were rescued from their exposed situation\nby a shepherd, who is called Faustulus, and may or may not have been\nthe same with the Faustulus by whom they had been exposed. Faustulus\ncarried the children to his hut; and there the maternal attentions of\nthe wolf and the woodpecker were replaced by those of the shepherd's\nwife. Her name was Larentia. Faustulus was one of Amulius's herdsmen,\nhaving the care of the flocks and herds that grazed on this part of\nthe royal domain, but living, like any other shepherd, in great\nseclusion, in his hut in the forests. He not only rescued the\nchildren, but he brought home and preserved the trough in which they\nhad been floated down the river. He put this relic aside, thinking\nthat the day might perhaps come in which there would be occasion to\nproduce it. He told the story of the children only to a very few\ntrustworthy friends, and he accompanied the communication, in the\ncases where he made it, with many injunctions of secrecy. He named the\nfoundlings Romulus and Remus, and as they grew up they passed\ngenerally for the shepherd's sons.\n\nFaustulus felt a great degree of interest, and a high sense of\nresponsibility too, in having these young princes under his care. He\ntook great pains to protect them from all possible harm, and to\ninstruct them in every thing which it was in those days considered\nimportant for young men to know. It is even said that he sent them to\na town in Latium where there was some sort of seminary of learning,\nthat their minds might receive a proper intellectual culture. As they\ngrew up they were both handsome in form and in countenance, and were\ncharacterized by a graceful dignity of air and demeanor, which made\nthem very attractive in the eyes of all who beheld them. They were\nprominent among the young herdsmen and hunters of the forest, for\ntheir courage, their activity, their strength, their various personal\naccomplishments, and their high and generous qualities of mind.\nRomulus was more silent and thoughtful than his brother, and seemed to\npossess in some respects superior mental powers. Both were regarded by\nall who knew them with feelings of the highest respect and\nconsideration.\n\nRomulus and Remus treated their own companions and equals, that is the\nyoung shepherds and herdsmen of the mountains, with great courtesy and\nkindness, and were very kindly regarded by them in return. They,\nhowever, evinced a great degree of independence of spirit in respect\nto the various bailiffs and chief herdsmen, and other officers of\nfield and forest police, who exercised authority in the region where\nthey lived. These men were sometimes haughty and domineering, and the\npeasantry in general stood greatly in awe of them. Romulus and Remus,\nhowever, always faced them without fear, never seeming to be alarmed\nat their threats, or at any other exhibitions of their anger. In fact,\nthe boys seemed to be imbued with a native loftiness and fearlessness\nof character, as if they had inherited a spirit of confidence and\ncourage with their royal blood, or had imbibed a portion of the\nindomitable temper of their fierce foster mother.\n\nThey were generous, however, as well as brave. They took the part of\nthe weak and the oppressed against the tyrannical and the strong in\nthe rustic contentions that they witnessed; they interposed to help\nthe feeble, to relieve those who were in want, and to protect the\ndefenseless. They hunted wild beasts, they fought against robbers,\nthey rescued and saved the lost. For amusements, they practiced\nrunning, wrestling, racing, throwing javelins and spears, and other\nathletic feats and accomplishments--in every thing excelling all their\ncompetitors, and becoming in the end greatly renowned.\n\nNumitor, the father of Rhea Silvia, whom Amulius had dethroned and\nbanished from Alba, was all this time still living; and he had now at\nlength become so far reconciled to Amulius as to be allowed to reside\nin Alba--though he lived there as a private citizen. He owned, it\nseems, some estates near the Tiber, where he had flocks and herds that\nwere tended by his shepherds and herdsmen. It happened at one time\nthat some contention arose between the herdsmen of Numitor and those\nof Amulius, among whom Romulus and Remus were residing. Now as the\nyoung men had thus far, of course, no idea whatever of their\nrelationship to Numitor, there was no reason why they should feel any\nspecial interest in his affairs, and they accordingly, as might\nnaturally have been expected, took part with Amulius in this quarrel,\nsince Faustulus, and all the shepherds around them were on that side.\nThe herdsmen of Numitor in the course of the quarrel drove away some\nof the cattle which were claimed as belonging to the herdsmen of\nAmulius. Romulus and Remus headed a band which they hastily called\ntogether, to pursue the depredators and bring the cattle back. They\nsucceeded in this expedition, and recaptured the herd. This incensed\nthe party of Numitor, and they determined on revenge.\n\nThey waited some time for a favorable opportunity. At length the time\ncame for celebrating a certain festival called the Supercalia, which\nconsisted of very rude games and ceremonies, in which men sacrificed\ngoats, and then dressed themselves partially in the skins, and ran\nabout whipping every one whom they met, with thongs made likewise of\nthe skins of goats, or of rabbits, or other animals remarkable for\ntheir fecundity. The meaning of the ceremonies, so far as such uncouth\nand absurd ceremonies could have any meaning, was to honor the God of\nfertility and fruitfulness, and to promote the fruitfulness of their\nflocks and herds, during the year ensuing at the time that the\ncelebrations were held.\n\nThe retainers and partisans of Numitor determined on availing\nthemselves of this opportunity to accomplish their object.\nAccordingly, they armed themselves, and coming suddenly upon the spot\nwhere the shepherds of Amulius were celebrating the games, they made a\nrush for Remus, who was at that time, in accordance with the custom,\nrunning to and fro, half-naked, and armed only with goat-skin thongs.\nThey succeeded in making him prisoner, and bore him away in triumph to\nNumitor.\n\nOf course, this daring act produced great excitement throughout the\ncountry. Numitor was well pleased with the prize that he had secured,\nbut felt, at the same time, some fear of the responsibility which he\nincurred by holding the prisoner. He was strongly inclined to proceed\nagainst Remus, and punish him himself for the offenses which the\nherdsmen of his lands charged against him; but he finally concluded\nthat this would not be safe, and he determined, in the end, to refer\nthe case to Amulius for decision. He accordingly sent Remus to\nAmulius, making grievous charges against him, as a lawless desperado,\nwho, with his brother, Numitor said, were the terror of the forests,\nthrough their domineering temper and their acts of robbery and rapine.\n\nThe king, pleased, perhaps, with the spirit of deference to his regal\nauthority on the part of his brother, implied in the referring of the\ncase of the accused to him for trial, sent Remus back again to\nNumitor, saying that Numitor might punish the freebooter himself in\nany way that he thought best. Remus was accordingly brought again to\nNumitor's house. In the mean time, the fact of his being thus made a\nprisoner, and charged with crime, and the proceedings in relation to\nhim, in sending him back and forth between Amulius and Numitor,\nstrongly attracted public attention. Every one was talking of the\nprisoner, and discussing the question of his probable fate. The\ngeneral interest which was thus awakened in respect to him and to his\nbrother Romulus, revived the slumbering recollections in the minds of\nthe old neighbors of Faustulus, of the stories which he had told them\nof his having found the twins on the bank of the river, in their\ninfancy. They told this story to Romulus, and he or some other friends\nmade it known to Remus while he was still confined.\n\nWhen Remus was brought before Numitor--who was really his grandfather,\nthough the fact of this relationship was wholly unknown to both of\nthem--Numitor was exceedingly struck with his handsome countenance and\nform, and with his fearless and noble demeanor. The young prisoner\nseemed perfectly self-possessed and at his ease; and though he knew\nwell that his life was at stake, there was a certain air of calmness\nand composure in his manner which seemed to denote very lofty\nqualities, both of person and mind.\n\nA vague recollection of the lost children of his daughter Rhea\nimmediately flashed across Numitor's mind. It changed all his anger\nagainst Remus to a feeling of wondering interest and curiosity, and\ngave to his countenance, as he looked upon his prisoner, an expression\nof kind and tender regard. After a short pause Numitor addressed the\nyoung captive--speaking in a gentle and conciliating manner--and asked\nhim who he was, and who his parents were.\n\n\"I will frankly tell you all that I know,\" said Remus, \"since you\ntreat me in so fair and honorable a manner. The king delivered me up\nto be punished, without listening to what I had to say, but you seem\nwilling to hear before you condemn. My name is Remus, and I have a\ntwin-brother named Romulus. We have always supposed ourselves to be\nthe children of Faustulus; but now, since this difficulty has\noccurred, we have heard new tidings in respect to our origin. We are\ntold that we were found in our infancy, on the shore of the river, at\nthe place where Faustulus lives, and that near by there was a box or\ntrough, in which we had been floated down to the spot from a place\nabove. When Faustulus found us, there was a wolf and a woodpecker\ntaking care of us and bringing us food. Faustulus carried us to his\nhouse, and brought us up as his children. He preserved the trough,\ntoo, and has it now.\"\n\nNumitor was, of course, greatly excited at hearing this intelligence.\nHe perceived at once that the finding of these children, both in\nrespect to time and place, and to all the attendant circumstances,\ncorresponded so precisely with the exposure of the children of Rhea\nSilvia as to leave no reasonable ground for doubt that Romulus and\nRemus were his grandsons. He resolved immediately to communicate this\njoyful discovery to his daughter, if he could contrive the means of\ngaining access to her; for during all this time she had been kept in\nclose confinement in her prison.\n\nIn the mean time, Romulus himself, at the house of Faustulus, in the\nforests, had become greatly excited by the circumstances in which he\nfound himself placed. He had been first very much incensed at the\ncapture of Remus, and while concerting with Faustulus plans for\nrescuing him, Faustulus had explained to him the mystery of his birth.\nHe had informed him not only how he was found with his brother, on the\nbank of the river, but also had made known to him whose sons he and\nRemus were. Romulus was, of course, extremely elated at this\nintelligence. His native courage and energy were quickened anew by his\nlearning that he and his brother were princes, and as he believed,\nrightfully entitled to the throne. He immediately began to form plans\nfor raising a rebellion against the government of Amulius, with a view\nof first rescuing Remus from his power, and afterward taking such\nulterior steps as circumstances might require.\n\nFaustulus, on the other hand, leaving Romulus to raise the forces for\nhis insurrection as he pleased, determined to go himself to Numitor\nand reveal the secret of the birth of Romulus and Remus to him. In\norder to confirm and corroborate his story, he took the trough with\nhim, carrying it under his cloak, in order to conceal it from view,\nand in this manner made his appearance at the gates of Alba.\n\nThere was something in his appearance and manner when he arrived at\nthe gate, which attracted the attention of the officers on guard\nthere. He wore the dress of a countryman, and had obviously come in\nfrom the forests, a long way; and there was something in his air\nwhich denoted hurry and agitation. The soldiers asked him what he had\nunder his cloak, and compelled him to produce the ark to view. The\ncuriosity of the guardsmen was still more strongly aroused at seeing\nthis old relic. It was bound with brass bands, and it had some rude\ninscription marked upon it. It happened that one of the guard was an\nold soldier who had been in some way connected with the exposure of\nthe children of Rhea when they were set adrift in the river, and he\nimmediately recognized this trough as the float which they had been\nplaced in. He immediately concluded that some very extraordinary\nmovement was going on,--and he determined to proceed forthwith and\ninform Amulius of what he had discovered. He accordingly went to the\nking and informed him that a man had been intercepted at the gate of\nthe city, who was attempting to bring in, concealed under his cloak,\nthe identical ark or float, which to his certain knowledge had been\nused in the case of the children of Rhea Silvia, for sending them\nadrift on the waters of the Tiber.\n\nThe king was greatly excited and agitated at receiving this\nintelligence. He ordered Faustulus to be brought into his presence.\nFaustulus was much terrified at receiving this summons. He had but\nlittle time to reflect what to say, and during the few minutes that\nelapsed while they were conducting him into the presence of the king,\nhe found it hard to determine how much it would be best for him to\nadmit, and how much to deny. Finally, in answer to the interrogations\nof the king, he acknowledged that he found the children and the ark in\nwhich they had been drifted upon the shore, and that he had saved the\nboys alive, and had brought them up as his children. He said, however,\nthat he did not know where they were. They had gone away, he alledged,\nsome years before, and were now living as shepherds in some distant\npart of the country, he did not know exactly where.\n\nAmulius then asked Faustulus what he had been intending to do with the\ntrough, which he was bringing so secretly into the city. Faustulus\nsaid that he was going to carry it to Rhea in her prison, she having\noften expressed a strong desire to see it, as a token or memorial\nwhich would recall the dear babes that had lain in it very vividly to\nher mind.\n\nAmulius seemed satisfied that these statements were honest and true,\nbut they awakened in his mind a very great solicitude and anxiety. He\nfeared that the children, being still alive, might some day come to\nthe knowledge of their origin, and so disturb his possession of the\nthrone, and perhaps revenge, by some dreadful retaliation, the wrongs\nand injuries which he had inflicted upon their mother and their\ngrandfather. The people, he feared, would be very much inclined to\ntake part with them, and not with him, in any contest which might\narise; for their sympathies were already on the side of Numitor. In a\nword, he was greatly alarmed, and he was much at a loss to know what\nto do, to avert the danger which was impending over him.\n\nHe concluded to send to Numitor and inquire of him whether he was\naware that the boys were still alive, and if so, if he knew where they\nwere to be found. He accordingly sent a messenger to his brother,\ncommissioned to make these inquiries. This messenger, though in the\nservice of Amulius, was really a friend to Numitor, and on being\nadmitted to Numitor's presence, when he went to make the inquiries as\ndirected by the king, he found Remus there,--though not, as he had\nexpected, in the attitude of a prisoner awaiting sentence from a\njudge, but rather in that of a son in affectionate consultation with\nhis father. He soon learned the truth, and immediately expressed his\ndetermination to espouse the cause of the prince. \"The whole city will\nbe on your side,\" said he to Remus. \"You have only to place yourself\nat the head of the population, and proclaim your rights; and you will\neasily be restored to the possession of them.\"\n\nJust at this crisis a tumult was heard at the gates of the city.\nRomulus had arrived there at the head of the band of peasants and\nherdsmen that he had collected in the forests. These insurgents were\nrudely armed and were organized in a very simple and primitive manner.\nFor weapons the peasants bore such implements of agriculture as could\nbe used for weapons, while the huntsmen brought their pikes, and\nspears, and javelins, and such other projectiles as were employed in\nthose days in hunting wild beasts. The troop was divided into\ncompanies of one hundred, and for banners they bore tufts of grass on\nwisps of straw, or fern, or other herbage, tied at the top of a pole.\nThe armament was rude, but the men were resolute and determined, and\nthey made their appearance at the gates of the city upon the outside,\njust in time to co-operate with Remus in the rebellion which he had\nraised within.\n\nThe revolt was successful. A revolt is generally successful against a\ndespot, when the great mass of the population desire his downfall.\nAmulius made a desperate attempt to stem the torrent, but his hour had\ncome. His palace was stormed, and he was slain. The revolution was\ncomplete, and Romulus and Remus were masters of the country.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nTHE FOUNDING OF ROME.\n\nB.C. 754\n\nThe people of Alba Longa called together.--The address of Numitor to\nthe citizens.--Romulus and Remus come forward.--Plan for building a new\ncity.--Numitor is to render the necessary aid.--Great numbers flock\ntogether to build the city.--The seven hills.--The Palatine\nhill.--Difference of opinion between Romulus and Remus.--Advantages of\nthe Aventine hill.--Perfect equality of the two brothers.--Both\ndetermined not to yield.--The brothers appeal to Numitor.--His\nproposal.--The vultures of the Appenines.--Their function.--Powers of\nthe vulture.--Auguries.--Romulus and Remus take their\nstations.--Result.--New dispute.--An open collision.--Faustulus\nkilled.--Romulus is victorious.--The building of the city goes\non.--Plowing the pomoerium.--Form of the enclosure.--The death of\nRemus.--The institution of the Lemuria.--Description of the\nceremonies.--The black beans.--State of Rome after the death of\nRemus.--The story of Celer.--Probable explanation of it.\n\n\nAs soon as the excitement and the agitations which attended the sudden\nrevolution by which Amulius was dethroned were in some measure calmed,\nand tranquillity was restored, the question of the mode in which the\nnew government should be settled, arose. Numitor considered it best\nthat he should call an assembly of the people and lay the subject\nbefore them. There was a very large portion of the populace who yet\nknew nothing certain in respect to the causes of the extraordinary\nevents that had occurred. The city was filled with strange rumors, in\nall of which truth and falsehood were inextricably mingled, so that\nthey increased rather than allayed the general curiosity and wonder.\n\nNumitor accordingly convened a general assembly of the inhabitants of\nAlba, in a public square. The rude and rustic mountaineers and\npeasants whom Romulus had brought to the city came with the rest.\nRomulus and Remus themselves did not at first appear. Numitor, when\nthe audience was assembled, came forward to address them. He gave them\na recital of all the events connected with the usurpation of Amulius.\nHe told them of the original division which had been made thirty or\nforty years before, of the kingdom and the estates of his father,\nbetween Amulius and himself,--of the plans and intrigues by which\nAmulius had contrived to possess himself of the kingdom and reduce\nhim, Numitor, into subjection to his sway,--of his causing Egestus,\nNumitor's son, to be slain in the hunting party, and then compelling\nhis little daughter Rhea to become a vestal virgin in order that she\nmight never be married. He then went on to describe the birth of\nRomulus and Remus, the anger of Amulius when informed of the event,\nhis cruel treatment of the children and of the mother, and his orders\nthat the babes should be drowned in the Tiber. He gave an account of\nthe manner in which the infants had been put into the little wooden\nark, of their floating down the stream, and finally landing on the\nbank, and of their being rescued, protected and fed, by the wolf and\nthe woodpecker. He closed his speech by saying that the young princes\nwere still alive, and that they were then at hand ready to present\nthemselves before the assembly.\n\nAs he said these words, Romulus and Remus came forward, and the vast\nassembly, after gazing for a moment in silent wonder upon their tall\nand graceful forms, in which they saw combined athletic strength and\nvigor with manly beauty, they burst into long and loud acclamations.\nAs soon as the applause had in some measure subsided, Romulus and\nRemus turned to their grandfather and hailed him king. The people\nresponded to this announcement with new plaudits, and Numitor was\nuniversally recognized as the rightful sovereign.\n\nIt seems that notwithstanding the personal graces and accomplishments\nof Romulus and Remus, and their popularity among their fellow\nforesters, that they and their followers made a somewhat rude and wild\nappearance in the city, and Numitor was very willing, when the state\nof things had become somewhat settled, that his rustic auxiliaries\nshould find some occasion for withdrawing from the capital and\nreturning again to their own native fastnesses. Romulus and Remus,\nhowever, having now learned that they were entitled to the regal name,\nnaturally felt desirous of possessing a little regal power, and thus\ndesired to remain in the city; while still they had too much\nconsideration for their grandfather to wish to deprive him of the\ngovernment. After some deliberation a plan was devised which promised\nto gratify the wishes of all.\n\nThe plan was this, namely, that Numitor should set apart a place in\nhis kingdom of Latium where Romulus and Remus might build a city for\nthemselves,--taking with them to the spot the whole horde of their\nretainers. The place which he designated for this purpose was the spot\non the banks of the Tiber where the two children had been landed when\nfloating down the stream. It was a wild and romantic region, and the\nenterprise of building a city upon it was one exactly suited to engage\nthe attention and occupy the powers of such restless spirits as those\nwho had collected under the young princes' standard. Many of these\nmen, it is true, were shepherds and herdsmen, well disposed in mind,\nthough rude and rough in manners. But then there were many others of\na very turbulent and unmanageable character, outlaws, fugitives, and\nadventurers of every description, who had fled to the woods to escape\npunishment for former crimes, or seek opportunities for the commission\nof new deeds of rapine and robbery; and who had seized upon the\noccasion furnished by the insurrection against Amulius to come forth\ninto the world again. Criminals always flock into armies when armies\nare raised; for war presents to the wicked and depraved all the\ncharms, with but half the danger, of a life of crime. War is in fact\nordinarily only a legal organization of crime.\n\nRomulus and Remus entered into their grandfather's plan with great\nreadiness. Numitor promised to aid them in their enterprise by every\nmeans in his power. He was to furnish tools and implements, for\nexcavations and building, and artisans so far as artisans were\nrequired, and was also to provide such temporary supplies of\nprovisions and stores as might be required at the outset of the\nundertaking. He gave permission also to any of his subjects to join\nRomulus and Remus in their undertaking, and they, in order to increase\ntheir numbers as much as possible, sent messengers around to the\nneighboring country inviting all who were disposed, to come and take\npart in the building of the new city. This invitation was accepted by\ngreat numbers of people, from every rank and station in life.\n\nOf course, however, the greater portion of those who came to join the\nenterprise, were of a very low grade in respect to moral character.\nMen of industry, integrity, and moral worth, who possessed kind hearts\nand warm domestic affections, were generally well and prosperously\nsettled each in his own hamlet or town, and were little inclined to\nbreak away from the ties which bound them to friends and society, in\norder to plunge in such a scene of turmoil and confusion as the\nbuilding of a new city, under such circumstances, must necessarily be.\nIt was of course generally the discontented, the idle, and the bad,\nthat would hope for benefit from such a change as this enterprise\nproposed to them. Every restless and desperate spirit, every depraved\nvictim of vice, every fugitive and outlaw would be ready to embark in\nsuch a scheme, which was to create certainly a new phase in their\nrelations to society, and thus afford them an opportunity to make a\nfresh beginning. The enterprise at the same time seemed to offer them,\nthrough a new organization and new laws, some prospect of release from\nresponsibility for former crimes. In a word, in preparing to lay the\nfoundations of their city, Romulus and Remus found themselves at the\nhead of a very wild and lawless company.\n\nThere were seven distinct hills on the ground which was subsequently\nincluded within the limits of Rome. Between and among these hills the\nriver meandered by sweeping and graceful curves, and at one point,\nnear the center of what is now the city, the stream passed very near\nthe foot of one of the elevations called the Palatine Hill. Here was\nthe spot where the wooden ark in which Romulus and Remus had been set\nadrift, had been thrown up upon the shore. The sides of the hill were\nsteep, and between it and the river there was in one part a deep\nmorass. Romulus thought, on surveying the ground with Remus his\nbrother, that this was the best spot for building the city. They could\nset apart a sufficient space of level ground around the foot of the\nhill for the houses--inclosing the whole with a wall--while the top of\nthe hill itself might be fortified to form the citadel. The wall and\nthe steep acclivity of the ground would form a protection on three\nsides of the inclosure, while the morass alone would be a sufficient\ndefense on the part toward the river. Then Romulus was specially\ndesirous to select this spot as the site, as it was here that he and\nhis brother had been saved from destruction in so wonderful a manner.\n\n[Illustration: SITUATION OF ROME.]\n\nRemus, however, did not concur in these views. A little farther down\nthe stream there was another elevation called the Aventine Hill, which\nseemed to him more suitable for the site of a town. The sides were\nless precipitous, and thus were more convenient for building ground.\nThen the land in the immediate vicinity was better adapted to the\npurposes which they had in view. In a word, the Aventine Hill was, as\nRemus thought, for every substantial reason, much the best locality;\nand as for the fact of their having been washed ashore at the foot of\nthe other hill, it was in his opinion an insignificant circumstance,\nwholly unworthy of being taken seriously into the account in laying\nthe foundation of a city.\n\nThe positions in which Remus and Romulus stood in respect to each\nother, and the feelings which were naturally awakened in their hearts\nby the circumstances in which they found themselves placed, were such\nas did not tend to allay any rising asperity which accident might\noccasion, but rather to irritate and inflame it. In the first place,\nthey were both ardent, impulsive, and imperious. Each was conscious of\nhis strength, and eager to exercise it. Each wished to command, and\nwas wholly unwilling to obey. While they were in adversity, they clung\ntogether for mutual help and protection; but now, when they had come\ninto the enjoyment of prosperity and power, the bands of affection\nwhich had bound them together were very much weakened, and were\nfinally sundered. Then there was nothing whatever to mark any\nsuperiority of one over the other. If they had been of different ages,\nthe younger could have yielded to the elder, in some degree, without\nwounding his pride. If one had been more prominent than the other in\neffecting the revolution by which Amulius was dethroned, or if there\nhad been a native difference of temperament or character to mark a\ndistinction, or if either had been designated by Numitor, or selected\nby popular choice, for the command,--all might have been well. But\nthere seemed in fact to be between them no grounds of distinction\nwhatever. They were twins, so that neither could claim any advantage\nof birthright. They were equal in size, strength, activity, and\ncourage. They had been equally bold and efficient in effecting the\nrevolution; and now they seemed equally powerful in respect to the\ninfluence which they wielded over the minds of their followers. We\nhave been so long accustomed to consider Romulus the more\ndistinguished personage, through the associations connected with his\nname, that have arisen from his subsequent career, that it is\ndifficult for us to place him and his brother on that footing of\nperfect equality which they occupied in the estimation of all who knew\nthem in this part of their history. This equality had caused no\ndifference between them thus far, but now, since the advent of power\nand prosperity prevented their continuing longer on a level, there\nnecessarily came up for decision the terrible question,--terrible when\ntwo such spirits as theirs have it to decide,--which was to yield the\npalm.\n\nThe brothers, therefore, having each expressed his preference in\nrespect to the best place for the city, were equally unwilling to\nrecede from the ground which they had taken. Remus thought that there\nwas no reason why he should yield to Romulus, and Romulus was equally\nunwilling to give way to Remus. Neither could yield, in fact, without\nin some sense admitting the superiority of the other. The respective\npartisans of the two leaders began to take sides, and the dissension\nthreatened to become a serious quarrel. Finally, being not yet quite\nready for an open rupture, they concluded to refer the question to\nNumitor, and to abide by his decision. They expected that he would\ncome and view the ground, and so decide where it was best that the\ncity should be built, and thus terminate the controversy.\n\nBut Numitor was too sagacious to hazard the responsibility of deciding\nbetween two such equally matched and powerful opponents. He endeavored\nto soothe and quiet the excited feelings of his grandsons, and finally\nrecommended to them to appeal to _augury_ to decide the question.\nAugury was a mode of ascertaining the divine will in respect to\nquestions of expediency or duty, by means of certain prognostications\nand signs. These omens were of various kinds, but perhaps the most\ncommon were the appearances observed in watching the flight of birds\nthrough the air.\n\nIt was agreed between Remus and Romulus, in accordance with the advice\nof Numitor, that the question at issue between them should be decided\nin this way. They were to take their stations on the two hills\nrespectively--the Palatine and the Aventine, and watch for vultures.\nThe homes of the vultures of Italy were among the summits of the\nAppenines, and their function in the complicated economy of animal\nlife, was to watch from the lofty peaks of the mountains, or from the\nstill more aerial and commanding positions which they found in soaring\nat vast elevations in the air, for the bodies of the dead,--whether of\nmen after a battle, or of sheep, or cattle, or wild beasts of the\nforests, killed by accident or dying of age,--and when found to remove\nand devour them; and thus to hasten the return of the lifeless\nelements to other forms of animal and vegetable life. What the earth,\nand the rite of burial, effects for man in advanced and cultivated\nstages of society, the vultures of the Appenines were commissioned to\nperform for all the animal communities of Italy, in Numitor's time.\n\nTo enable the vulture to accomplish the work assigned him, he is\nendowed with an inconceivable strength of wing, to sustain his flight\nover the vast distances which he has to traverse, and up to the vast\nelevations to which he must sometimes soar; and also with some\nmysterious and extraordinary sense, whether of sight or smell, to\nenable him readily to find, at any hour, the spot where his presence\nis required, however remote or however hidden it may be. Guided by\nthis instinct, he flies from time to time with a company of his\nfellows, from mountain to mountain, or wheels slowly in vast circles\nover the plains--surveying the whole surface of the ground, and\nassuredly finding his work;--finding it too equally easily, whether it\nlie exposed in the open field, or is hidden, no matter how secretly,\nin forest, thicket, grove or glen.\n\nIt was, to certain appearances, indicated in the flight of these\nbirds--such as the number that were seen at a time, the quarter of the\nheavens in which they appeared, the direction in which they flew, as\nfrom left to right or from right to left--that the people of Numitor's\nday were accustomed to look for omens and auguries. So Romulus and\nRemus took their stations on the hills which they had severally\nchosen, each surrounded by a company of his own adherents and friends,\nand began to watch the skies. It was agreed that the decision of the\nquestion between the two hills should be determined by the omens\nwhich should appear to the respective observers stationed upon them.\n\nBut it happened, unfortunately, that the rules for the interpretation\nof auguries and omens, were far too indefinite and vague to answer the\npurpose for which they were now appealed to. The most unequivocal\ndistinctness and directness in giving its responses is a very\nessential requisite in any tribunal that is called upon as an umpire,\nto settle disputes; while the ancient auguries and oracles were always\nsusceptible of a great variety of interpretations. When Remus and\nRomulus commenced their watch no vultures were to be seen from either\nhill. They waited till evening, still none appeared. They continued to\nwatch through the night. In the morning a messenger came over from the\nPalatine hill to Remus on the Aventine, informing him that vultures\nhad appeared to Romulus. Remus did not believe it. At last, however,\nthe birds really came into view; a flock of six were seen by Remus,\nand afterward one of twelve by Romulus. The observations were then\nsuspended, and the parties came together to confer in respect to the\nresult; but the dispute instead of being settled, was found to be in a\nworse condition than ever. The point now to be determined was whether\nsix vultures seen first, or twelve seen afterward, were the better\nomen, that is whether numbers, or simple priority of appearance,\nshould decide the question. In contending in respect to this nice\npoint the brothers became more angry with each other than ever. Their\nrespective partisans took sides in the contest, which resulted finally\nin an open and violent collision. Romulus and Remus themselves seem to\nhave commenced the affray by attacking one another. Faustulus, their\nfoster-father, who, from having had the care of them from their\nearliest infancy, felt for them an almost parental affection, rushed\nbetween them to prevent them from shedding each other's blood. He was\nstruck down and killed on the spot, by some unknown hand. A brother of\nFaustulus too, named Plistinus, who had lived near to him, and had\nknown the boys from their infancy, and had often assisted in taking\ncare of them, was killed in the endeavor to aid his brother to appease\nthe tumult.\n\nAt length the disturbance was quelled. The result of the conflict was,\nhowever, to show that Romulus and his party were the strongest.\nRomulus accordingly went on to build the walls of the city at the spot\nwhich he had first chosen. The lines were marked out, and the\nexcavations were commenced with great ceremony.\n\nIn laying out the work, the first thing to be done was to draw the\nlines of what was called the _pomoerium_. The pomoerium was a sort\nof symbolical wall, and was formed simply by turning a furrow with a\nplow all around the city, at a considerable distance from the real\nwalls, for the purpose, not of establishing lines of defense, but of\nmarking out what were to be the limits of the corporation, so to\nspeak, for legal and ceremonial purposes. Of course, the pomoerium\nincluded a much greater space than the real walls, and the people were\nallowed to build houses anywhere within this outer inclosure, or even\nwithout it, though not very near to it. Those who built thus were, of\ncourse, not protected in case of an attack, and of course they would,\nin such case, be compelled to abandon their houses, and retreat for\nsafety within the proper walls.\n\nSo Romulus proceeded to mark out the pomoerium of the city,\nemploying in the work the ceremonies customary on such occasions. The\nplow used was made of copper, and for a team to draw it a bullock and\na heifer were yoked together. Men appointed for the purpose followed\nthe plow, and carefully turned over the clods _toward_ the wall of the\ncity. This seems to have been considered an essential part of the\nceremony. At the places where roads were to pass in toward the gates\nof the city, the plow was lifted out of the ground and carried over\nthe requisite space, so as to leave the turf at those points unbroken.\nThis was a necessary precaution; for there was a certain consecrating\ninfluence that was exerted by this ceremonial plowing which hallowed\nthe ground wherever it passed in a manner that would very seriously\ninterfere with its usefulness as a public road.\n\nThe form of the space inclosed by the pomoerium, as Romulus plowed\nit, was nearly square, and it included not merely the Palatine hill\nitself, but a considerable portion of level land around it.\n\nThough Romulus thus seemed to have conquered, in the strife with\nRemus, the difficulty was not yet fully settled. Remus was very little\ndisposed to acquiesce in his brother's assumed superiority over him.\nHe was sullen, morose, and ill at ease, and was inclined to take\nlittle part in the proceedings which were going on. Finally an\noccasion occurred which produced a crisis, and brought the rivalry and\nenmity of the brothers suddenly and forever to an end. Remus was one\nday standing by a part of the wall which his brother's workmen were\nbuilding, and expressing, in various ways, and with great freedom, his\nopinions of his brother's plans; and finally he began to speak\ncontemptuously of the wall which the workmen were building. Romulus\nall the time was standing by. At length, in order to enforce what he\nsaid about the insufficiency of the work, Remus leaped over a portion\nof it, saying, \"This is the way the enemy will leap over your wall.\"\nHereupon Romulus seized a mattock from the hands of one of the\nlaborers, and struck his brother down to the ground with it, saying,\n\"And this is the way that we will kill them if they do.\" Remus was\nkilled by the blow.\n\nAs soon as the deed was done, Romulus was at once overwhelmed with\nremorse and horror at the atrocity of the crime which he had been so\nsuddenly led to commit. His anguish was so great for a time that he\nrefused all food, and he could not sleep. He caused the dead body of\nRemus, and also those of Faustulus and of Plistinus, the brother of\nFaustulus, to be buried with the most solemn and imposing funeral\nceremonies, so as to render all possible honor to their memory; and\nthen, not satisfied with this, he instituted and celebrated certain\nreligions rites, to prevent the ghosts of the deceased from coming\nback to haunt him. The ghosts, or specters of the dead that came back\nto haunt and terrify the living were called _lemures_. Hence the\ncelebration which Romulus ordained was called the Lemuria, and it\ncontinued to be annually observed in Rome during the whole period of\nits subsequent history.\n\nPrecisely what the ceremonies were which Romulus performed to appease\nthe spirit of his brother can not now be ascertained, as there was no\nparticular description of them recorded. But the Lemuria, as afterward\nperformed, were frequently described by Roman writers, and they were\nof a very curious and extraordinary character. The time for the\ncelebration of these rites was in May, the anniversary, as was\nsupposed, of the days in which Romulus originally celebrated them.\nThe Lemurial ceremonies extended through three days, or rather\nnights, although, for some curious reason or other, they were\nalternate and not consecutive nights. They were the nights of the\nninth, eleventh, and thirteenth of May. The ceremonies were performed\nin the night, for the reason that it was in the dark hours that ghosts\nand goblins were accustomed, as was supposed, to roam about the world\nto haunt and terrify men.\n\nThe ceremonies performed on these occasions are thus described. They\ncommenced at midnight. The father of the family would rise at that\nhour and go out at the door of the house, making certain\ngesticulations and signals with his hands, which were supposed to have\nthe effect of keeping the specters away. He then washed his hands\nthree times in pure spring water. Then he filled his mouth with a\ncertain kind of black beans for which ghosts were supposed to have\nsome particular fondness. Being thus provided he would walk along,\ntaking the beans out of his mouth as he walked, and throwing them\nbehind him. The specters were supposed to gather up these beans as he\nthrew them down. He must, however, by no means look round to see them.\nHe then, after speaking certain mysterious and cabalistic words,\nwashed his hands again, and then making a frightful noise by striking\nbrass basins together, he shouted out nine times, \"Ghosts of this\nhouse begone!\" This was supposed effectually to drive the specters\naway--an opinion which was always abundantly confirmed by the fact;\nfor on looking round after this vociferated adjuration, the man always\nfound that the specters were gone!\n\nWhen by these ceremonies, or ceremonies such as these, Romulus had\nappeased the spirit of his brother, and those of the guardians of his\nchildhood, his mind became more composed, and he turned his attention\nonce more toward the building of the city. The party of Remus now, of\ncourse, since it was deprived of its head, no longer maintained\nitself, but was gradually broken up and merged in the general mass.\nRomulus became the sole leader of the enterprise, and immediately\nturned his attention to the measures to be adopted for a more complete\nand effectual organization of the community over which he found\nhimself presiding.\n\nIn respect to Remus, it ought perhaps to be added, that after his\ndeath a story was circulated in Rome that it was a man named Celer,\nand not Romulus, that killed him. This story has not, however, been\ngenerally believed. It has been thought more probable that Romulus\nhimself, or some of his partisans and friends, invented and circulated\nthe story of Celer, in order to screen him in some degree from the\nreproach of so unnatural a crime as the killing of a brother so near\nand dear to him as Remus had been;--a brother who had shared his\ninfancy with him, who had slept with him, at the same time, in the\narms of his mother, who had floated with him down the Tiber in the\nsame ark, been saved from death by the same miraculous intervention,\nand through all the years of infancy, childhood, and youth, had been\nhis constant playmate, companion, and friend. The crime was as much\nmore atrocious than any ordinary fratricide, as Remus had been nearer\nto Romulus than any ordinary brother.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nORGANIZATION.\n\nB.C. 754\n\nDiscussion in respect to ancient dates.--Difficulties.--Nature of\ntradition.--Extreme youth of Romulus.--Varro's astrological\ncalculation.--Ingenuity of it.--Olympiads.--The race of\nCoroebus.--The result of Varro's computation.--Probable character\nof the first constructions at Rome.--Romulus convenes an assembly\nof the people.--The speech of Romulus.--His proposals.--The three\nforms of government.--Romulus himself made king.--Divine intimation\nin his favor.--Commencement of his reign.--Probable origin of the\nRoman institutions.--Republican character of the government.--Patricians\nand plebians.--Patrons and clients.--Duration of the reign of\nRomulus.--Usages.--Difficulty of immediately organizing such a\ncommunity.--Importance of the parental and family relation.--The father\na magistrate.--The marriage tie.--Religions ceremonies.--Auguries.--The\nthree augurs.--Various kinds of omens.--Station of the augurs.--Thunder\nand lightning.--Birds.--Nature of the ancient superstition.--Results of\nthe arrangements made by Romulus.--The asylum on the Capitoline\nhill.\n\n\nThere has been a great deal of philosophical discussion, and much\ndebate, among historians and chronologists, in attempting to fix the\nprecise year in which Romulus commenced the building of Rome. The\ndifficulty arises from the fact that no regular records of public\nevents were made in those ancient days. In modern times such records\nare very systematically kept,--an express object of them being to\npreserve and perpetuate a knowledge of the exact truth in respect to\nthe time, and the attendant circumstances, relating to all great\ntransactions. On the other hand, the memory of public events in early\nperiods of the world, was preserved only through tradition; and\ntradition cares little for the exact and the true. She seeks only for\nwhat is entertaining. Her function being simply to give pleasure to\nsuccessive generations of listeners, by exciting their curiosity and\nwonder with tales,--which, the more strange and romantic they are,\nthe better they are suited to her purpose--she concerns herself very\nlittle with such simple verities as dates and names. The exposure of\nthe twin infants of Rhea, supposing such an event to have actually\nhappened, she remembered well, and repeated the narrative of\nit--adorning it, doubtless, with many embellishments--from age to age,\nso that the whole story comes down to modern times in full detail; but\nas to the time when the event took place, she gave herself no concern.\nThe date would have added nothing to the romance of the story, and\nthus it was neglected and forgotten.\n\nIn subsequent times, however, when regular historical annals began to\nbe recorded, chronologists attempted to reason backward, from events\nwhose periods were known, through various data which they ingeniously\nobtained from the preceding and less formal narratives, until they\nobtained the dates of earlier events by a species of calculation. In\nthis way the time for the building of Rome was determined to be about\nthe year 754 before Christ. As to Romulus himself, the tradition is\nthat he was but eighteen or twenty years old when he commenced the\nbuilding of it. If this is true, his extreme youth goes far to\npalliate some of the wrongs which he perpetrated--wrongs which would\nhave been far more inexcusable if committed with the deliberate\npurpose of middle life, than if prompted by the unthinking impulses\nand passions of eighteen.\n\nA certain Roman philosopher, named Varro, who lived some centuries\nafter the building of the city, conceived of a very ingenious plan for\ndiscovering the year in which Romulus was born. It was this. By means\nof the science of astrology, as practiced in those days, certain\nlearned magicians used to predict what the life and fortunes of any\nman would be, from the aspects and phases of the planets and other\nheavenly bodies at the time of his birth. The idea of Varro was to\nreverse this process in the case of Romulus; that is, to deduce from\nthe known facts of his history what must have been the relative\nsituations of the planets and stars when he came into the world! He\naccordingly applied to a noted astrologer to work out the problem for\nhim. Given, a history of the incidents and events occurring to the man\nin his progress through life; required, the exact condition of the\nskies when the child was born. In other words, the astrologer was to\ndetermine what must have been the relative positions of the sun, moon,\nand stars, at the birth of Romulus, in order to produce a being whose\nlife should exhibit such transactions and events as those which\nappeared in Romulus's subsequent history. When the astrologer had thus\nascertained the condition of the skies at the time in question, the\n_astronomers_, as Varro concluded, could easily calculate the month\nand the year when the combination must have occurred.\n\nNow, it was the custom in those days to reckon by Olympiads, which\nwere periods of four years, the series commencing with a great victory\nat a foot-race in Greece, won by a man named Coroebus, from which\nevent originated the Olympian games, which were afterward celebrated\nevery four years, and which in subsequent ages became so renowned. The\ntime when Coroebus ran his race, and thus furnished an era for all\nthe subsequent chronologists and historians of his country, is\ngenerally regarded as about the year 776 before Christ; and the result\nof the calculations of Varro's astrologer, and of the astronomers who\nperfected it, was, that to lead such a life as Romulus led, a man must\nhave been born at a time corresponding with the first year of the\nsecond Olympiad; that is, taking off from 776, four years, for the\nfirst Olympiad, the first year of the second Olympiad would be 772;\nthis would make the time of his birth 772 before Christ; and then\ndeducting eighteen years more, for the age of Romulus when he began to\nbuild his wall, we have 754 before Christ as the era of the foundation\nof Rome. This method of determining a point in chronology seems so\nabsurd, according to the ideas of the present day, that we can hardly\nresist the conclusion, that Varro, in making his investigation, was\nreally guided by other and more satisfactory modes of determining the\npoint, and that the horoscope was not what he actually relied upon.\nHowever this may be, the era which he fixed upon has been very\ngenerally received, though many others have been proposed by the\ndifferent learned men who have successively investigated the question.\n\nAccording to the accounts given by the early writers, the\nconstructions which Romulus and his companions made were of a very\nrude and simple character; such as might have been expected from a\ncompany of boys: for boys we ought perhaps to consider them all, since\nit is not to be presumed that the troop, in respect to age and\nexperience, would be much in advance of the leaders. The wall which\nthey built about the city was probably only a substantial stone fence,\nand their houses were huts and hovels. Even the palace, for there was\na building erected for Romulus himself which was called the palace,\nwas made, it is said, of _rushes_. Perhaps the meaning is that it was\nthatched with rushes,--or possibly the expression refers to a mode of\nbuilding sometimes adopted in the earlier stages of civilization, in\nwhich straw, or rushes, or some similar material is mixed with mud or\nclay to help bind the mass together, the whole being afterward dried\nin the sun. Walls thus made have been found to possess much more\nstrength and durability than would be supposed possible for such a\nmaterial to attain.\n\nHowever this may be, the hamlet of huts which Romulus and his wild\ncoadjutors built and walled in, must have appeared, at the time, to\nall observers, a very rude and imperfect attempt at building a city;\nin fact it must have seemed to them, if it is true that Romulus was at\nthat time only eighteen years old, more like a frolic of thoughtless\nboys than a serious enterprise of men. Romulus, however, whatever\nothers may have thought of his work, was wholly in earnest. He felt\nthat he was a prince, and proud of his birth, and fully conscious of\nhis intellectual and personal power, he determined that he would have\na kingdom.\n\nIt seems, however, that thus far he had not been considered as\npossessing any thing like regal authority over his company of\nfollowers, but had been regarded only as a sort of chieftain\nexercising an undefined and temporary power; for as soon as the huts\nwere built and the inclosures made, he is said to have convened an\nassembly of the people, for consultation in respect to the plan of\ngovernment that they should form. Romulus introduced the business of\nthis meeting by a speech appropriate to the occasion, which speech is\nreported by an ancient historian somewhat as follows. Whether Romulus\nactually spoke the words thus attributed to him, or whether the\nreport contains only what the reporter himself imagined him to say,\nthere is now no means of knowing.\n\n\"We have now,\" said Romulus, according to this record, \"completed the\nbuilding of our city, so far as at present we are able to do it; and\nit must be confessed that if we were required to depend for protection\nagainst a serious attack from an enemy, on the height of our walls, or\non their strength and solidity, our prospects would not be very\nencouraging. But our walls we must remember are not what we rely upon.\nNo walls can be so high, that an enemy can not scale them. The\ndependence must be after all on the men within the city, and not on\nthe ramparts and entrenchments which surround it, whatever those\nramparts and entrenchments may be. We must therefore rely upon\nourselves, for our safety--upon our valor, our discipline, our union\nand harmony. It is courage and energy in the people, not strength in\noutward defenses, on which the safety and prosperity of a State must\ndepend.\n\n\"The great work before us therefore is yet to be done. We have to\norganize a government under which order and discipline may come in,\nto control and direct our energies, and prepare us to meet whatever\nfuture exigencies may arise, whether of peace or war. What form shall\nbe given to this government is the question that you have now to\nconsider. I have learned by inquiry that there are various modes of\ngovernment adopted among men, and between these we have now to decide.\nShall our commonwealth be governed by one man? Or shall we select a\ncertain number of the wisest and bravest of the citizens, and commit\nthe administration of public affairs to them? Or, in the third place,\nshall we commit the management of the government to the control of the\npeople at large? Each of these three forms has its advantages, and\neach is attended with its own peculiar dangers. You are to choose\nbetween them. Only when the decision is once made, let us all unite in\nmaintaining the government which shall be established, whatever its\nform may be.\"\n\nThe result of the deliberation which followed, after the delivery of\nthis address, was that the government of the state should be, like the\ngovernment of Alba, under which the followers of Romulus had been\nborn, a monarchy; and that Romulus himself should be king. He was a\nprince by birth, an inheritor of regal rank and power, by regular\nsuccession, from a line of kings. He had shown himself, too, by his\ndeeds, to be worthy of power. He was courageous, energetic, sagacious,\nand universally esteemed. It was decided accordingly that he should be\nking, and he was proclaimed such by all the assembled multitude, with\nlong and loud acclamations.\n\nNotwithstanding the apparent unanimity and earnestness of the people,\nhowever, in calling Romulus to the throne, he evinced, as the story\ngoes, the proper degree of that reluctance and hesitation which a\nsuitable regard to appearances seems in all ages to require of public\nmen when urged to accept of power. He was thankful to the people for\nthe marks of their confidence, but he could not consent to assume the\nresponsibilities and prerogatives of power until the choice made by\nhis countrymen had been confirmed by the divinities of the land. So he\nresolved on instituting certain solemn religious ceremonies, during\nthe progress of which he hoped to receive some manifestation of the\ndivine will. These ceremonies consisted principally of sacrifices\nwhich he caused to be offered on the plain near the city. While\nRomulus was engaged in these services, the expected token of the\ndivine approval appeared in a supernatural light which shone upon his\nhand. At least it was _said_ that such a light was seen, and the\nappearing of it was considered as clearly confirming the right of\nRomulus to the throne. He no longer made any objection to assuming the\ngovernment of the new city as its acknowledged king.\n\nThe first object to which he gave his attention was the organization\nof the people, and the framing of the general constitution of society.\nThe community over which he was called to preside had consisted thus\nfar of very heterogeneous and discordant materials. Vast numbers of\nthe people were of the humblest and most degraded condition,\nconsisting of ignorant peasants, some stupid, others turbulent and\nungovernable; and of refugees from justice, such as thieves, robbers,\nand outlaws of every degree. But then, on the other hand, there were\nmany persons of standing and respectability. The sons of families of\nwealth and influence in Alba had, in many cases, joined the\nexpedition, and at last, when the building of the city had advanced\nso far as to make it appear that the enterprise might succeed, more\nmen of age and character came to join it, so that Romulus found\nhimself, when he formally assumed the kingly power, at the head of a\ncommunity which contained the elements of a very respectable\ncommonwealth. These elements were, however, thus far all mingled\ntogether in complete confusion, and the work that was first to be done\nwas to adopt some plan for classifying and arranging them.\n\nIt is most probable, as a matter of fact, that the organization and\nthe institutions which in subsequent times appeared in the Roman\nstate, were not deliberately planned and formally introduced by\nRomulus at the outset, but that they gradually grew up in the progress\nof time, and that afterward historians and philosophers, in\nspeculating upon them at their leisure, carried back the history of\nthem to the earliest times, in order, by so doing, to honor the\nfounder of the city, and also to exalt and aggrandize the institutions\nthemselves in public estimation, by celebrating the antiquity and\ndignity of their origin.\n\nThe institutions which Romulus actually founded, were of a very\nrepublican character, if the accounts of subsequent writers are to be\nbelieved. He established, it is true, a gradation of ranks, but the\nmost important offices, civil and military, were filled, it is said,\nby election on the part of the people. In the first place, the whole\npopulation was divided into three portions, which were called\n_tribes_, which word was formed from the Latin word _tres_, meaning\nthree. These tribes chose each three presiding officers, selecting for\nthe purpose the oldest and most distinguished of their number. It is\nprobable, in fact, that Romulus himself really made the selection, and\nthat the action of the people was confined to some sort of expression\nof assent and concurrence, for it is difficult to imagine how any\nother kind of election than this could be possible among so rude and\nignorant a multitude. The tribes were then subdivided each into thirty\n_counts_ or _counties_, and each of these likewise elected its head.\nThus there was a large body of magistrates or chieftains appointed,\nninety-nine in number, namely, nine heads of tribes and ninety heads\nof counties. Romulus himself added one to the number, of his own\nindependent selection, which made the hundredth. The men thus chosen,\nconstituted what was called the senate. They formed the great\nlegislative council of the nation. They and the families descending\nfrom them became, in subsequent times, an aristocratic and privileged\nclass, called the Patricians. The remaining portion of the population\nwere called Plebeians.\n\nThe Plebeians comprised, of course, the industrial and useful classes,\nand were in rank and station inferior to the Patricians. They were,\nhowever, not all upon a level with each other, for they were divided\ninto two great classes, called _patrons_ and _clients_. The patrons\nwere the employers, the proprietors, the men of influence and capital.\nThe clients were the employed, the dependent, the poor. The clients\nwere to perform services of various kinds for the patrons, and the\npatrons were to reward, to protect, and to defend the clients. All\nthese arrangements Romulus is said to have ordained by his enactments,\nand thus introduced as elements in the social constitution of the\nstate. It is more probable, however, that instead of being thus\nexpressly established, by the authority of Romulus as a lawgiver, they\ngradually grew up of themselves, perhaps with some fostering\nattention and care on his part, and possibly under some positive\nregulation of law. For such important and complicated relations as\nthese are not of a nature to be easily called into existence and\naction, in an extended and unorganized community, by the mere fiat of\na military chieftain.\n\nPerhaps, however, it is not intended by the ancient historians, in\nreferring all these complicated arrangements of the Roman civil polity\nto the enactments of Romulus, to convey the idea that he introduced\nthem at once in all their completeness, at the outset of his reign.\nRomulus continued king of Rome for nearly forty years, and instead of\nmaking formal and positive enactments, he may have gradually\nintroduced the arrangements ascribed to him, as _usages_ which he\nfostered and encouraged,--confirming and sanctioning them from time to\ntime, when occasion required, by edicts and laws.\n\nHowever this may have been, it is certain that Romulus, in the course\nof his reign, laid the foundation of the future greatness and glory of\nRome, by the energy with which he acted in introducing order, system,\nand discipline into the community which he found gathered around him.\nHe seems to have had the sagacity to perceive from the outset that the\ngreat evil and danger which he had to fear was the prevalence of the\nspirit of disorder and misrule among his followers. In fact, nothing\nbut tumult and confusion was to have been expected from such a lawless\nhorde as his, and even after the city was built, the presumption must\nhave been very strong in the mind of any considerate and prudent man,\nagainst the possibility of ever regulating and controlling such a mass\nof heterogeneous and discordant materials, by any human means. Romulus\nsaw, however, that in effecting this purpose lay the only hope of the\nsuccess of his enterprise, and he devoted himself with great assiduity\nand care, and at the same time with great energy and success, to the\nwork of organizing it. The great leading objects of his life, from the\ntime that he commenced the government of the new city, were to arrange\nand regulate social institutions, to establish laws, to introduce\ndiscipline, to teach and accustom men to submit to authority, and to\nbring in the requirements of law, and the authority of the various\nrecognized relations of social life, to control and restrain the\nwayward impulses of the natural heart.\n\nAs a part of this system of policy, he laid great stress upon the\nparental and family relation. He saw in the tie which binds the father\nto the child and the child to the father, a natural bond which he\nforesaw would greatly aid him in keeping the turbulent and boisterous\npropensities of human nature under some proper control. He accordingly\nmagnified and confirmed the natural force of parental authority by\nadding the sanctions of law to it. He defined and established the\npower of the father to govern and control the son, rightly considering\nthat the father is the natural ally of the state in restraining young\nmen from violence, and enforcing habits of industry and order upon\nthem, at an age when they most need control. He clothed parents,\ntherefore, with authority to fulfill this function, considering that\nwhat he thus aided them to do, was so much saved for the civil\nmagistrate and the state. In fact, he carried this so far that it is\nsaid that the dependence of the child upon the father, under the\ninstitutions of Romulus, was more complete, and was protracted to a\nlater period than was the case under the laws of any other nation.\nThe power of the father over his household was supreme. He was a\nmagistrate, so far as his children were concerned, and could thus not\nonly require their services, and inflict light punishments for\ndisobedience upon them, as with us, but he could sentence them to the\nseverest penalties of the law, if guilty of crime.\n\nThe laws were equally stringent in respect to the marriage tie. Death\nwas the penalty for the violation of the marriage vows. All property\nbelonging to the husband and to the wife was held by them in common,\nand the wife, if she survived the husband, and if the husband died\nwithout a will, became his sole heir. In a word, the laws of Romulus\nevince a very strong desire on the part of the legislator to sustain\nthe sacredness and to magnify the importance of the family tie; and to\navail himself of those instinctive principles of obligation and duty\nwhich so readily arise in the human mind out of the various relations\nof the family state, in the plans which he formed for subduing the\nimpulses and regulating the action of his rude community.\n\nHe devoted great attention too to the institutions of religion. He\nknew well that such lawless and impetuous spirits as his could never\nbe fully subdued and held in proper subordination to the rules of\nsocial order and moral duty, without the influence of motives drawn\nfrom the spiritual world; and he accordingly adopted vigorous measures\nfor confirming and perpetuating such religious observances as were at\nthat time observed, and in introducing others. Every public act which\nhe performed was always accompanied and sanctioned by religious\nsolemnities. The rites and ceremonies which he instituted seem puerile\nto us, but they were full of meaning and of efficacy in the view of\nthose who performed them. There was, for example, a class of religious\nfunctionaries called _augurs_, whose office it was to interpret the\ndivine will by means of certain curious indications which it was their\nspecial profession to understand. There were three of these augurs,\nand they were employed on all public occasions, both in peace and war,\nto ascertain from the omens whether the enterprise or the work in\nregard to which they were consulted was or was not favored by the\ncouncils of heaven. If the augury was propitious the work was entered\nupon with vigor and confidence. If otherwise, it was postponed or\nabandoned.\n\nThe omens which the augurs observed were of various kinds, being drawn\nsometimes from certain peculiarities in the form and structure of the\ninternal organs of animals offered in sacrifice, sometimes from the\nappearance of birds in the sky, their numbers or the direction of\ntheir flight, and sometimes from the forms of clouds, the appearance\nof the lightning, and the sound of the thunder. Whenever the augurs\nwere to take the auspices from any of the signs of the sky, the\nprocess was this. They would go with solemn ceremony to some high\nplace--in Rome there was a station expressly consecrated to this\npurpose on the Capitoline hill,--and there, with a sort of magical\nwand which they had for the purpose, one of the number would determine\nand indicate the four quarters of the heaven, pointing out in a solemn\nmanner the directions of east, west, north and south. The augur would\nthen take his stand with his back to the west and his face of course\nto the east. The north would then be on his left hand and the south at\nhis right. He would then, in this position watch for the signs. If it\nwas from the thunder that the auspices were to be taken, the augur\nwould listen to hear from what quarter of the heavens it came. If the\nlightning appeared in the east and the sound of the thunder seemed to\ncome from the northward, the presage was favorable. So it was if the\nchain of lightning seen in the sky appeared to pass from cloud to\ncloud above, instead of descending to the ground. On the other hand,\nthunder sounding as if it came from the southward, and lightning\nstriking down to the earth, were both unpropitious omens. As to birds,\nsome were of good omen, as vultures, eagles and woodpeckers. Others\nwere evil, as ravens and owls. Various inferences were drawn too from\nthe manner in which the birds that appeared in the air, were seen to\nfly, and from the sound of their note at the time when the observation\nwas made.\n\nBy these and many similar means the government of Romulus vainly\nendeavored to ascertain the will of heaven in respect to the plans and\nenterprises in which they were called upon from time to time to\nengage. There was perhaps in these observances much imposture, and\nmuch folly; still they could only have been sustained, in their\ninfluence and ascendency over the minds of the people, by a sincere\nveneration on their part for some unseen and spiritual power, and a\nreverent desire to conform the public measures of their government to\nwhat they supposed to be the divine will.\n\nBy such measures as we have thus described Romulus soon produced order\nout of confusion within his little commonwealth. The enterprise which\nhe had undertaken and the great success which had thus far followed\nit, attracted great attention, and he soon found that great numbers\nbegan to come in from all the surrounding country to join him. Many of\nthese were persons of still worse character than those who had adhered\nto him at first, and he soon found that to admit them indiscriminately\ninto the city would be to endanger the process of organization which\nwas now so well begun. He accordingly set apart a hill near to his\ncity called the Capitoline hill, as an asylum for them, where they\ncould remain in safety under regulations suitable to their condition,\nand without interfering with the arrangements which he had made for\nthe rest. This asylum soon became a very attractive place for all the\nvagabonds, outlaws, thieves and robbers of the country. Romulus\nwelcomed them all, and as fast as they came he busied himself with\nplans to furnish them with employment and subsistence. He enlisted\nsome of them in his army. Some he employed to cultivate the ground in\nthe territory belonging to the city. Others were engaged as servants\nfor the people within the walls--being taken into the city, in small\nnumbers, from time to time, as fast as they could be safely received.\nIn process of time, however, the walls of the city were extended so as\nto include the Capitoline hill, and thus at last the whole mass was\nbrought into Rome together.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nWIVES.\n\nB.C. 751\n\nThe rape of the Sabines.--Narrative of it.--The population of Rome\nchiefly men.--Necessity of providing wives for them.--Romulus sends\nembassadors to the surrounding states.--Insulting replies.--Anger of\nthe Romans.--Great discovery made by Romulus.--His plan.--Plans for\nthe festival.--Races, games, and shows.--A great concourse assembles\nat the fair.--The spectacles continue several weeks.--The last day of\nthe fair.--Signal to be made by Romulus.--Excitement of the\nRomans.--Final preparations.--The moment arrives.--The maidens\nseized.--The men fly.--The Romans secure the captive maidens.--An\nincident.--A captive \"for Thalassius.\"--The phrase \"for Thalassius\"\nbecomes a proverb.--Resentment of the fathers and brothers of the\nmaidens.--The captives called together in the morning.--Address made\nto them by Romulus.--Acquiescence of the captives.--Cures.--The Sabines\ndemand the restoration of the captives.--Romulus refuses to restore\nthem.--Ceremony in commemoration of these events.\n\n\nEvery reader who has made even the smallest beginning in the study of\nancient history, must be acquainted, in general, with the mode which\nRomulus adopted to provide the people of his city with wives, by the\ntransaction which is commonly called in history the rape of the\nSabines. The deed itself, as it actually occurred, may perhaps have\nbeen one of great rudeness, violence, and cruelty. If so, the\nhistorians who described it contrived to soften the character of it,\nand to divest it in a great measure of the repulsive features which\nmight have been supposed to characterize such a transaction, for,\naccording to the narrative which they give us, the whole proceeding\nwas conducted in such a manner as to evince not only great ingenuity\nand sagacity on the part of Romulus and his government, but also great\nmoderation and humanity. The circumstances, as the historians relate\nthem, were these:\n\nAs might naturally be supposed from the manner in which the company\nwhich formed the population of Rome had been collected, it consisted\nat first almost wholly of men. The laws and regulations referred to in\nthe last chapter, in respect to the family relation, were those framed\nafter the organization of the community had become somewhat advanced,\nsince at the outset there could be very few families, inasmuch as the\ncompany which first met together to build the city, consisted simply\nof an army of young men. It is true that among those who joined them\nat first there were some men of middle life and some families,--still,\nas is always the case with new cities and countries suddenly and\nrapidly settled, the population consisted almost entirely of men.\n\nIt was necessary that the men should have wives. There were several\nreasons for this. First, it was necessary for the comfort and\nhappiness of the people themselves. A community of mere men is gloomy\nand desolate. Secondly, for the continuance and perpetuity of the\nstate it was necessary that there should be wives and children, so\nthat when one generation should have passed away there might be\nanother to succeed it. And, thirdly, for the preservation of order and\nlaw. Men unmarried are, in the mass, proverbially ungovernable.\nNothing is so effectual in keeping a citizen away from scenes of\ntumult and riot as a wife and children at home. The fearful violence\nof the riots and insurrections of which the city of Paris has so often\nbeen the scene, is explained, in a great degree, by the circumstance\nthat so immense a proportion of the population are unmarried. They\nhave no homes, and no defenseless wives and children to fear for, and\nso they fear nothing, but give themselves up, in times of public\nexcitement, to the wildest impulses of passion. Romulus seems to have\nunderstood this, and his first care was to provide the way by which as\nmany as possible of his people should be married.\n\nThe first measure which he adopted, was to send embassadors around to\nthe neighboring states, soliciting alliances with them, and\nstipulations allowing of intermarriages between his people and theirs.\nThe proposal seemed not unreasonable, and it was made in an unassuming\nand respectful manner. In the message which Romulus commissioned the\nembassadors to deliver, he admitted that his colony was yet small,\nand by no means equal in influence and power to the kingdoms whose\nalliance he desired; but he reminded those whom he addressed that\ngreat results came sometimes in the end from very inconsiderable\nbeginnings, and that their enterprise thus far, though yet in its\ninfancy, had been greatly prospered, and was plainly an object of\ndivine favor, and that the time might not be far distant when the new\nstate would be able fully to reciprocate such favors as it might now\nreceive.\n\nThe neighboring kings to whom these embassages were sent rejected the\nproposals with derision. They did not even give _serious_ answers,\nobviously considering the new city as a mere temporary gathering and\nencampment of adventurers and outlaws, which would be as transient as\nit was rude and irregular. They looked to see it break up as suddenly\nand tumultuously as it had been formed. They accordingly sent back\nword to Romulus that he must resort to the same plan to get women for\nhis city that he had adopted to procure recruits of men. He must open\nan _asylum_ for them. The low and the dissolute would come flocking\nto him then, they said, from all parts, and vagabond women would make\njust the kind of wives for vagabond men.\n\nOf course, the young men of the city were aroused to an extreme pitch\nof indignation at receiving this response. They were clamorous for\nwar. They wished Romulus to lead them out against some of these cities\nat once, and allow them at the same time to revenge the insults which\nthey had received, and to provide themselves with wives by violence,\nsince they could not obtain them by solicitation. But Romulus\nrestrained their ardor, saying that they must do nothing rashly, and\npromising to devise a better way than theirs to attain the end.\n\nThe plan which he devised was to invite the people of the surrounding\nstates and cities both men and women, to come to Rome, with a view of\nseizing some favorable occasion for capturing the women while they\nwere there, and driving the men away. The difficulty in the way of the\nexecution of this plan was obviously to induce the people to come, and\nespecially to bring the young women with them. The native timidity of\nthe maidens, joined to the contemptuous feelings which their fathers\nand brothers cherished, in regard to every thing pertaining to the new\ncity, would very naturally keep them away, unless something could be\ndevised which would exert a very strong attraction.\n\nRomulus waited a little time, in order that any slight excitement\nwhich had been produced by his embassy should have had time to\nsubside, and then he made, or pretended to make, a great discovery in\na field not far from his town. This discovery was the finding of an\nancient altar of Neptune, under ground. The altar was brought to view\nby some workmen who were making excavations at the place. How it came\nto be under ground, and who had built it, no one knew. The rumor of\nthis great discovery was spread immediately in every direction.\nRomulus attached great importance to the event. The altar had\nundoubtedly been built, he thought, by the ancient inhabitants of the\ncountry, and the finding it was a very momentous occurrence. It was\nproper that the occasion should be solemnized by suitable religious\nobservances.\n\nAccordingly, arrangements were made for a grand celebration. In\naddition to the religious rites, Romulus proposed that a great fair\nshould be held on a plain near the city at the same time. Booths were\nerected, and the merchants of all the neighboring cities were invited\nto come, bringing with them such articles as they had for sale, and\nthose who wished to buy were to come with their money. In a word,\narrangements were made for a great and splendid festival.\n\nThere were to be games too, races, and wrestlings, and other athletic\nsports, such as were in vogue in those times. The celebration was to\ncontinue for many days, and the games and sports were to come at the\nend. Romulus sent messengers to all the surrounding country to\nproclaim the programme of these entertainments, and to invite every\nbody to come; and he adroitly arranged the details in such a manner\nthat the chief attractions for grave, sober-minded and substantial men\nshould be on the earlier days of the show, and that the latter days\nshould be devoted to lighter amusements, such as would possess a charm\nfor the young, the light-hearted and the happy. It was among this last\nclass that he naturally expected to find the maidens whom his men\nwould choose in looking for wives.\n\nWhen the time arrived the spectacles commenced. There was a great\nconcourse at the outset, but the people who first came, were, as\nRomulus supposed would be the case, chiefly men. They came in\ncompanies, as if for mutual support and protection, and they exhibited\nin a greater or less degree an air of suspicion, watchfulness and\nmistrust. They were, however, received with great cordiality and\nkindness. They were conducted about the town, and were astonished to\nfind how considerable a town it was. The streets, the houses, the\nwalls, the temples, simple in construction as they were, far surpassed\nthe expectations they had formed. The visitors were treated with great\nhospitality, and entertained in a manner which, considering the\ncircumstances of the case, was quite sumptuous. The women and children\ntoo, who came on these first days, received from all the Romans very\nspecial attention and regard.\n\nAs the celebrations went on from day to day, a considerable change\ntook place in the character and appearance of the company. The men\nceased to be suspicious and watchful. Some went home, and carried such\nreports of the new city, and of the kindness, and hospitality, and\ngentle behavior of the inhabitants, that new visitors came continually\nto see for themselves. Every day the proportion of stern and\nsuspicious men diminished, and that of gay and happy-looking youths\nand maidens increased.\n\nIn the mean time, the men of the city were under strict injunctions\nfrom Romulus to treat their guests in the most respectful manner,\nleaving them entirely at liberty to go and come as they pleased,\nexcept so far as they could detain them by treating them with kindness\nand attention, and devising new sports and amusements for them from\nday to day. Things continued in this state for two or three weeks,\nduring all which time the new city was a general place of resort for\nthe people of all the surrounding country. Of course a great many\nagreeable acquaintances would naturally be formed between the young\nmen of the city and their visitors, as accidental circumstances, or\nindividual choice and preference brought them together; and thus,\nwithout any directions on the subject from Romulus, each man would\nvery naturally occupy himself, in anticipation of the general seizure\nwhich he knew was coming, in making his selection beforehand, of the\nmaiden whom he intended, when the time for the seizure came, to make\nhis own; and the maiden herself would probably be less terrified, and\nmake less resistance to the attempt to capture her, than if it were by\na perfect stranger that she was to be seized.\n\nAll this Romulus seems very adroitly to have arranged. The time for\nthe final execution of the scheme was to be the last day of the\ncelebration. The best spectacle and show of all was to take place on\nthat day. The Romans were directed to come armed to this show, but to\nkeep their arms carefully concealed beneath their garments. They were\nto do nothing till Romulus gave the signal. He was himself to be\nseated upon a sort of throne, in a conspicuous place, where all could\nsee him, presiding, as it were, over the assembly, while the spectacle\nwent on; and finally, when he judged that the proper moment had\narrived, he was to give the signal by taking off a certain loose\narticle of dress which he wore--a sort of cloak or mantle--and folding\nit up, and then immediately unfolding it again. This mantle was a sort\nof badge of royalty and was gayly adorned with purple stripes upon a\nwhite ground. It was well adapted, therefore, to the purpose of being\nused as a signal, inasmuch as any motions that were made with it could\nbe very easily seen.\n\nEvery thing being thus arranged, the assembly was convened, and the\ngames and spectacles went on. The Romans were full of excitement and\ntrepidation, each one having taken his place as near as possible to\nthe maiden whom he was intending to seize, and occupying himself with\nkeeping his eye upon her as closely as he could, without seeming to do\nso, and at the same time watching the royal mantle, and every movement\nmade by the wearer of it, that he might catch the signal the instant\nthat it should be made. All this time the men among the guests at the\nentertainment were off their guard, and wholly at their ease--having\nno suspicion whatever of the mine that was ready to be sprung beneath\nthem. The wives, mothers, and children, too, were all safe, as well as\nunsuspicious of danger; for Romulus had given special charge that no\nmarried woman should be molested. The men had had ample time and\nopportunity in the many days of active social intercourse which they\nhad enjoyed with their guests, to know who were free, and they were\nforbidden in any instance to take a wife away from her husband.\n\nAt length the moment arrived for giving the signal. Romulus took off\nhis mantle, folded it, and then unfolded it again. The Romans\nimmediately drew their swords, and rushed forward, each to secure his\nown prize. A scene of the greatest excitement and confusion ensued.\nThe whole company of visitors perceived of course that some great act\nof treachery was perpetrated upon them, but they were wholly in the\ndark in respect to the nature and design of it. They were chiefly\nunarmed, and wholly unprepared for so sudden an attack, and they fled\nin all directions in dismay, protecting themselves and their wives and\nchildren as well as they could, as they retired, and aiming only to\nwithdraw as large a number as possible from the scene of violence and\nconfusion that prevailed. The Romans were careful not to do them any\ninjury, but, on the contrary, to allow them to withdraw, and to take\naway all the mothers and children without any molestation. In fact, it\nwas the very object and design of the onset which they made upon the\ncompany, not only to seize upon the maidens, but to drive all the rest\nof their visitors away. The men, therefore, in the excitement and\nterror of the moment, fled in all directions, taking with them those\nwhom they could most readily secure, who were, of course, those whom\nthe Romans left to them; while the Romans themselves withdrew with\ntheir prizes, and secured them within the walls of the city.\n\nIn reading this extraordinary story, we naturally feel a strong\ndisposition to inquire what part the damsels themselves took, when\nthey found themselves thus suddenly seized and carried away, by these\ndaring and athletic assailants. Did they resist and struggle to get\nfree, or did they yield themselves without much opposition to their\nfate? That they did not resist effectually is plain, for the Roman\nyoung men succeeded in carrying them away, and securing them. It may\nbe that they attempted to resist, but found their strength overpowered\nby the desperate and reckless violence of their captors. And yet, it\ncan not be denied that woman is endued with the power of making by\nvarious means a very formidable opposition to any attempt to abduct\nher by any single man, when she is thoroughly in earnest about it. How\nit was in fact in this case we have no direct information, and we have\nconsequently no means of forming any opinion in respect to the light\nin which this rough and lawless mode of wooing was regarded by the\nobjects of it, except from the events which subsequently occurred.\n\nOne incident took place while the Romans were seizing and carrying\naway their prizes, which was afterward long remembered, as it became\nthe foundation of a custom which continued for many centuries to form\na part of the marriage ceremony at Rome. It seems that some young\nmen--very young, and of a humble class--had seized a peculiarly\nbeautiful girl--one of some note and consideration, too, among her\ncountrywomen--and were carrying her away, like the rest. Some other\nyoung Romans of the patrician order seeing this, and thinking that so\nbeautiful a maiden ought not to fall to the share of such plebeians,\nimmediately set out in full pursuit to rescue her. The plebeians\nhurried along to escape from them, calling out at the same time,\n\"_Thalassio! Thalassio!_\" which means \"For Thalassius, For\nThalassius.\" They meant by this to convey the idea that the prize\nwhich they had in possession was intended not for any one of their own\nnumber, but for Thalassius. Now Thalassius was a young noble\nuniversally known and very highly esteemed by all his countrymen, and\nwhen the rescuing party were thus led to suppose that the beautiful\nlady was intended for him, they acquiesced immediately, and desisted\nfrom their attempt to recapture her, and thus by the aid of their\nstratagem the plebeians carried off their prize in safety. When this\ncircumstance came afterward to be known, the ingenuity of the young\nplebeians, and the success of their manoeuver, excited very general\napplause, and the exclamation, _Thalassio_, passed into a sort of\nproverb, and was subsequently adopted as an exclamation of assent and\ncongratulation, to be used by the spectators at a marriage ceremony.\n\nRomulus had issued most express and positive orders that the young\ncaptives should be treated after their seizure in the kindest and most\nrespectful manner, and should be subject to no violence, and no\nill-treatment of any kind, other than that necessary for conveying\nthem to the places of security previously designated. They suffered\nundoubtedly a greater or less degree of distress and terror,--but\nfinding that they were treated, after their seizure, with respectful\nconsideration, and that they were left unmolested by their captors,\nthey gradually recovered their composure during the night, and in the\nmorning were quite self-possessed and calm. Their fathers and brothers\nin the mean time had gone home to their respective cities, taking with\nthem the women and children that they had saved, and burning with\nindignation and rage against the perpetrators of such an act of\ntreachery as had been practiced upon them. They were of course in a\nstate of great uncertainty and suspense in respect to the fate which\nawaited the captives, and were soon eagerly engaged in forming and\ndiscussing all possible plans for rescuing and recovering them. Thus\nthe night was passed in agitation and excitement, both within and\nwithout the city,--the excitement of terror and distress, great\nperhaps, though subsiding on the part of the captives, and of\nresentment and rage which grew deeper and more extended every hour, on\nthe part of their countrymen.\n\nWhen the morning came, Romulus ordered the captive maidens to be all\nbrought together before him in order that he might make as it were an\napology to them for the violence to which they had been subjected, and\nexplain to them the circumstances which had impelled the Romans to\nresort to it.\n\n\"You ought not,\" said he, \"to look upon it as an indignity that you\nhave been thus seized, for the object of the Romans in seizing you was\nnot to dishonor you, or to do you any injury, but only to secure you\nfor their wives in honorable marriage; and far from being displeased\nwith the extraordinariness of the measures which they have adopted to\nsecure you, you ought to take pride in them, as evincing the ardor and\nstrength of the affection with which you have inspired your lovers. I\nwill assure you that when you have become their wives you shall be\ntreated with all the respect and tenderness that you have been\naccustomed to experience under your fathers' roofs. The brief coercion\nwhich we have employed for the purpose of securing you in the first\ninstance,--a coercion which we were compelled to resort to by the\nnecessity of the case,--is the only rudeness to which you will ever\nbe exposed. Forgive us then for this one liberty which we have taken,\nand consider that the fault, whatever fault in it there may be, is not\nours, but that of your fathers and brothers who rejected our offers\nfor voluntary and peaceful alliances, and thus compelled us to resort\nto this stratagem or else to lose you altogether. Your destiny if you\nunite with us will be great and glorious. We have not taken you\ncaptive to make you prisoners or slaves, or to degrade you in any way\nfrom your former position; but to exalt you to positions of high\nconsideration in a new and rising colony;--a colony which is surely\ndestined to become great and powerful, and of which we mean you to be\nthe chief glory and charm.\"\n\nThe young and handsome Romans stood by while Romulus made this speech,\ntheir countenances animated with excitement and pleasure. The maidens\nthemselves seemed much inclined to yield to their fate. Their\nresentment gradually subsided. It has been, in fact, in all ages,\ncharacteristic of women to be easily led to excuse and forgive any\nwrong on the part of another which is prompted by love for herself:\nand these injured maidens seemed gradually to come to the conclusion,\nthat considering all the circumstances of the case their abductors\nwere not so much in fault after all. In a short time an excellent\nunderstanding was established, and they were all married. There were,\nit is said, about five or six hundred of them, and it proved that most\nof them were from the nation of the Sabines, a nation which inhabited\na territory north of the colony of the Romans. The capital of the\nSabines was a city called Cures. Cures was about twenty miles from\nRome.[E]\n\n[Footnote E: See map of Latium, page 134.]\n\nThe Sabines, in deliberating on the course which they should pursue in\nthe emergency, found themselves in a situation of great perplexity. In\nthe first place the impulse which urged them to immediate acts of\nretaliation and hostility was restrained by the fact that so many of\ntheir beloved daughters were wholly in the power of their enemies, and\nthey could not tell what cruel fate might await the captives if they\nwere themselves to resort to any measures that would exasperate or\nprovoke the captors. Then again their own territory was very much\nexposed and they were by no means certain, in case a war should be\ncommenced between them and the Romans, how it would end. Their own\npopulation was much divided, being scattered over the territory, or\nsettled in various cities and towns which were but slightly fortified,\nand consequently were much exposed to assault in case the Romans were\nto make an incursion into their country. In view of all these\nconsiderations the Sabines concluded that it would be best for them on\nthe whole, to try the influence of gentle measures, before resorting\nto open war.\n\nThey therefore sent an embassy to Romulus, to remonstrate in strong\nterms against the wrong which the Romans had done them by their\ntreacherous violence, and to demand that the young women should be\nrestored. \"If you will restore them to us now,\" said they, \"we will\noverlook the affront which you have put upon us, and make peace with\nyou; and we will enter into an alliance with you so that hereafter\nyour people and ours may be at liberty to intermarry in a fair and\nhonorable way, but we can not submit to have our daughters taken away\nfrom us by treachery and force.\"\n\nReasonable as this proposition seems, Romulus did not think it best\nto accede to it. It was, in fact, too late, for such deeds once done\ncan hardly be undone. Romulus replied, that the women, being now the\nwives of the Romans, could not be surrendered. The violence, he said,\nof which the Sabines complained was unavoidable. No other possible way\nhad been open to them for gaining the end. He was willing, he added,\nto enter into a treaty of peace and alliance with the Sabines, but\nthey must acknowledge, as a preliminary to such a treaty, the validity\nof the marriages, which, as they had already been consummated, could\nnot now be annulled.\n\nThe Sabines, on their part, could not accede to these proposals.\nBeing, however, still reluctant to commence hostilities, they\ncontinued the negotiations--though while engaged in them they seemed\nto anticipate an unfavorable issue, for they were occupied all the\ntime in organizing troops, strengthening the defenses of their\nvillages and towns, and making other vigorous preparations for war.\n\nThe Romans, in the mean time, seemed to find the young wives which\nthey had procured by these transactions a great acquisition to their\ncolony. It proved, too, that they not only prized the acquisition,\nbut they exulted so much in the ingenuity and success of the stratagem\nby which their object had been effected, that a sort of symbolical\nviolence in taking the bride became afterward a part of the marriage\nceremony in all subsequent weddings. For always, in future years, when\nthe new-married wife was brought home to her husband's house, it was\nthe custom for him to take her up in his arms at the door, and carry\nher over the threshold as if by force, thus commemorating by this\nceremony the coercion which had signalized the original marriages of\nhis ancestors, the founders of Rome.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nTHE SABINE WAR.\n\nB.C. 750-746\n\nKing Acron.--Caenina.--Its distance from Rome.--Acron's hostility to\nthe new city.--His plans.--Romulus and Acron meet on the\nfield.--Anticipations of the spectators.--Romulus victorious.--Results\nof his victory.--Subsequent policy of the Romans.--The trophy of the\nvictory.--First Roman triumph.--Annexation of more cities.--Women\nsummoned.--The address of Romulus.--His promises.--Generous policy\npursued by Romulus.--Enlargement of the city.--Plans of the\nSabines.--They mature their preparations.--Titus Tatius.--Preparations\nof the Romans.--Final negotiations.--The Roman herdsmen.--Flocks and\nherds called in.--The citadel.--Tarpeia.--The Campus Martius.--Parley\nwith Tarpeia.--Agreement made with Tarpeia.--The Sabines\nadmitted.--Tarpeia killed.--The two armies meet on the plain.--A truce\nto bury the dead.--Fresh combats.--Romulus in great personal\ndanger.--The story of Curtius.--The lake.--Distress of the Sabine\nwomen.--Their perplexity.--The plan of Hersilia.--The women admitted to\nthe senate house.--Arrangements for the intercession of the women.--The\naddress of Hersilia.--Effect of it.--Conditions and terms of peace.\n\n\nWhile the negotiations with the Sabines were still pending, Romulus\nbecame involved in another difficulty, which for a time assumed a very\nthreatening aspect. This difficulty was a war which broke out,\nsomewhat suddenly, in consequence of the invasion of the Roman\nterritories by a neighboring chieftain named Acron. Acron was the\nsovereign of a small state, whose capital was a town called Caenina.[F]\nThis Caenina is supposed to have been only four or five miles distant\nfrom Romulus's city,--a fact which shows very clearly on how small a\nscale the deeds and exploits connected with the first foundation of\nthe great empire, which afterward became so extended and so renowned,\nwere originally performed, and how intrinsically insignificant they\nwere, in themselves, though momentous in the extreme in respect to the\nconsequences that flowed from them.\n\n[Footnote F: See Map of Latium, page 134.]\n\nAcron was a bold, energetic, and determined man, who had already\nacquired great fame by his warlike exploits, and who had long been\nwatching the progress of the new colony with an evil eye. He thought\nthat if it were allowed to take root, and to grow, it might, at some\nfuture day, become a formidable enemy, both to him, and also to the\nother states in that part of Italy. He had been very desirous,\ntherefore, of finding some pretext for attacking the new city, and\nwhen he heard of the seizure of the Sabine women, he thought that the\ntime had arrived. He, therefore, urged the Sabines to make war at once\nupon the Romans, and promised, if they would do so, to assist them\nwith all the forces that he could command. The Sabines, however, were\nso unwilling to proceed to extremities, and spent so much time in\nnegotiations and embassies, that Acron's patience was at length wholly\nexhausted by the delays, and he resolved to undertake the\nextermination of the new colony himself alone.\n\nSo he gathered together a rude and half-organized army, and advanced\ntoward Rome. Romulus, who had been informed of his plans and\npreparations, went out to meet him. The two armies came in view of\neach other on an open plain, not far from the city. Romulus advanced\nat the head of his troops, while Acron appeared likewise in the\nfore-front of the invaders. After uttering in the hearing of each\nother, and of the assembled armies, various exclamations of challenge\nand defiance, it was at length agreed that the question at issue\nshould be decided by single combat, the two commanders themselves to\nbe the champions. Romulus and Acron accordingly advanced into the\nmiddle of the field, while their armies drew up around them, forming a\nsort of ring within which the combatants were to engage.\n\nThe interest which would be naturally felt by such an encounter, was\nincreased very much by the strong contrast that was observed in the\nappearance of the warriors. Romulus was very young, and though tall\nand athletic in form, his countenance exhibited still the expression\nof softness and delicacy characteristic of youth. Acron, on the other\nhand, was a war-worn veteran, rugged, hardy, and stern; and the\nthrongs of martial spectators that surrounded the field, when they saw\nthe combatants as they came forward to engage, anticipated a very\nunequal contest. Romulus was nevertheless victorious. As he went into\nthe battle, he made a vow to Jupiter, that if he conquered his foe, he\nwould ascribe to the god all the glory of the victory, and he would\nset up the arms and spoils of Acron at Rome, as a trophy sacred to\nJupiter, in honor of the divine aid through which the conquest should\nbe achieved. It was in consequence of this vow, as the old historians\nsay, that Romulus prevailed in the combat. At all events, he did\nprevail. Acron was slain, and while Romulus was stripping the fallen\nbody of its armor on the field, his men were pursuing the army of\nAcron, for the soldiers fled in dismay toward their city, as soon as\nthey saw that the single combat had gone against their king.\n\nCaenina was not in a condition to make any defense, and it was readily\ntaken. When the city was thus in the power of Romulus, he called the\ninhabitants together, and said to them, that he cherished no hostile\nor resentful feelings toward them. On the contrary, he wished to have\nthem his allies and friends, and he promised them, that if they would\nabandon Caenina, and go with him to Rome, they should all be received\nas brothers, and be at once incorporated into the Roman state, and\nadmitted to all the privileges of citizens. The people of Caenina, when\nthe first feelings of terror and distress which their falling into the\npower of their enemies naturally awakened, had been in some measure\nallayed, readily acquiesced in this arrangement, and were all\ntransferred to Rome. Their coming made a great addition not only to\nthe population and strength of the city, but vastly increased the\ncelebrity and fame of Romulus in the estimation of the surrounding\nnations.\n\nThis victory over Acron, and the annexation of his dominions to the\nRoman commonwealth, are considered of great historical importance, as\nthe original type and exemplar of the whole subsequent foreign policy\nof the Roman state;--a policy marked by courage and energy in martial\naction on the field, and by generosity in dealing with the conquered;\nand which was so successful in its results, that it was the means of\nextending the Roman power from kingdom to kingdom, and from continent\nto continent, until the vast organization almost encircled the world.\n\nRomulus faithfully fulfilled the vow which he had made to Jupiter. On\nthe return of the army to Rome, the soldiers, by his directions, cut\ndown a small oak-tree, and trimming the branches at the top, and\nshortening them as much as was necessary for the purpose, they hung\nthe weapons and armor of Acron upon it, and marched with it thus, in\ntriumph into the city. Romulus walked in the midst of the procession,\na crown of laurel upon his head, and his long hair hanging down upon\nhis shoulders. Thus the victors entered the city, greeted all the way\nby the shouts and acclamations of the people, who had assembled,--men,\nwomen, and children,--at the gates and upon the tops of the houses.\nWhen the long procession had thus passed in, tables for the soldiers\nwere spread in the streets and public squares, and the whole day was\nspent in festivity and rejoicing. This was the first Roman\ntriumph,--the original model and example of those magnificent and\nimposing spectacles which in subsequent ages became the wonder of the\nworld.\n\nThe spoils which had been brought in upon the oak were solemnly set\nup, on one of the hills within the city, as a trophy to Jupiter. A\nsmall temple was erected expressly to receive them. This temple was\nvery small, being but five feet wide and ten feet long.\n\nA short time after these transactions two other cities were\nincorporated into the Roman state. The name of these cities were\nCrustumenium and Antemnae. Some women from these cities had been seized\nat Rome when the Sabine women were taken, and the inhabitants had been\never since that period meditating plans of revenge. They were not\nstrong enough to wage open war against Romulus, but they began at last\nto make hostile incursions into the Roman territories by means of such\nsmall bands of armed men as they had the means of raising. Romulus\nimmediately organized bodies of troops sufficient for the purpose, and\nthen suddenly, and, as it would seem, without giving the kings of\nthese cities any previous warning, he appeared before the walls and\ncaptured the cities before the inhabitants had time to recover from\ntheir consternation.\n\nHe then sent to all the women in Rome who had formerly belonged to\nthese cities, summoning them to appear before him at his public place\nof audience in the city, and in the presence of the Roman Senate. The\nwomen were exceedingly terrified at receiving this summons. They\nsupposed that death or some other terrible punishment, was to be\ninflicted upon them in retribution for the offenses committed by their\ncountrymen, and they came into the senate-house, hiding their faces in\ntheir robes, and crying out with grief and terror. Romulus bid them\ncalm their fears, assuring them that he intended them no injury. \"Your\ncountrymen,\" said he, \"preferred war to the peaceful alternative of\nfriendship and alliance which we offered them; and the fortune of war\nto which they thus chose to appeal, has decided against them. They\nhave now fallen into our hands, and are wholly at our mercy. We do\nnot, however, mean to do them any harm. We spare and forgive them for\nyour sakes. We intend to invite them to come and live with us and with\nyou at Rome, so that you can once more experience the happiness of\nbeing joined to your fathers and brothers as well as your husbands. We\nshall not destroy or even injure their cities; but shall send some of\nour own citizens to people them, so that they may become fully\nincorporated into the Roman commonwealth. Thus, your fathers and\nbrothers, and all your countrymen, receive the boon of life, liberty,\nand happiness through you; and all that we ask of you in return, is\nthat you will continue your conjugal affection and fidelity to your\nRoman husbands, and seek to promote the harmony and happiness of the\ncity by every means in your power.\"\n\nOf course such transactions as these attracted great attention\nthroughout the country, and both the valor with which Romulus\nencountered his enemies while they resisted and opposed him, and the\ngenerosity with which he admitted them to an honorable alliance with\nhim when they were reduced to submission, were universally applauded.\nIn fact, there began to be formed a strong public sentiment in favor\nof the new colony, and the influx to it of individual adventurers,\nfrom all parts of the country, rapidly increased. In one instance a\nfamous chieftain named Caelius, a general of the Etrurians who lived\nnorth of the Tiber, brought over the whole army under his command in a\nbody, to join the new colony. New and special arrangements were\nnecessary to be made at Rome for receiving so sudden and so large an\naccession to the numbers of the people, and accordingly a new\neminence, one which had been hitherto without the city, was now\ninclosed, and brought within the poemerium. This hill received the\nname of Caelius, from the general whose army occupied it. The city was\nextended too at the same time on the other side toward the Tiber. The\nwalls were continued down to the very bank of the river, and thence\ncarried along the bank so as to present a continued defense on that\nside, except at one place where there was a great gate leading to the\nwater.\n\nDuring all this time, however, the Sabines still cherished the spirit\nof resentment and hostility, and instead of being conciliated by the\nforbearance and generosity of the Romans, were only excited to greater\njealousy and ill-will at witnessing the proofs of their increasing\ninfluence and power. They employed themselves in maturing their plans\nfor a grand onset against the new colony, and with the intention to\nmake the blow which they were about to strike effectual and final they\ntook time to arrange their preparations on the most extensive scale,\nand to mature them in the most deliberate and thorough manner. They\nenlisted troops; they collected stores of provisions and munitions of\nwar; they formed alliances with such states lying beyond them as they\ncould draw into their quarrel; and finally, when all things were\nready, they assembled their forces upon the frontier, and prepared for\nthe onset. The name of the general who was placed in command of this\nmighty host was Titus Tatius.\n\nIn the mean time, Romulus and the people of the city were equally busy\nin making preparations for defense. They procured and laid up in\nmagazines, great stores of provisions for the use of the city. They\nstrengthened and extended the walls, and built new ramparts and towers\nwherever they were needed. Numitor rendered very essential aid to his\ngrandson in these preparations. He sent supplies of weapons to him for\nthe use of the men, and furnished various military engines, such as\nwere used in those times in the attack and defense of besieged cities.\nIn fact, the preparations on both sides were of the most extensive\ncharacter, and seemed to portend a very resolute and determined\ncontest.\n\nWhen all things were thus ready, the Sabines, before actually striking\nthe blow for which they had been so long and so deliberately\npreparing, concluded to send one more final embassy to Romulus, to\ndemand the surrender of the women. This was of course only a matter of\nform, as they must have known well from what had already passed that\nRomulus would not now yield to such a proposal. He did not yield. He\nsent back word in answer to their demand, that the Sabine women were\nall well settled in Rome, and were contented and happy there with\ntheir husbands and friends, and that he could not think now of\ndisturbing them. This answer having been received, the Sabines\nprepared for the onset.\n\nThere was a certain tract of country surrounding Rome which belonged\nto the people of the city, and was cultivated by them. This land was\nused partly for tillage and partly for the pasturage of cattle, but\nprincipally for the latter, as the rearing of flocks and herds was,\nfor various reasons, a more advantageous mode of procuring food for\nman in those ancient days than the culture of the ground. The rural\npopulation, therefore, of the Roman territory consisted chiefly of\nherdsmen; and when the approaching danger from the Sabines became\nimminent, Romulus called all these herdsmen in, and required the\nflocks of sheep and the herds of cattle to be driven to the rear of\nthe city, and shut up in an inclosure there, where they could be more\neasily defended. Thus the Sabine army found, when they were ready to\ncross the frontier, that the Roman territory, on that side, was\ndeserted and solitary; and that there was nothing to oppose them in\nadvancing across it almost to the very gates of Rome.\n\nThey advanced accordingly, and when they came near to the city they\nfound that Romulus had taken possession of two hills without the\nwalls, where he had entrenched himself in great force. These two hills\nwere named the Esquiline and Quirinal hills. The city itself included\ntwo other hills, namely, the Palatine and the Capitoline. The\nCapitoline hill was the one on which the asylum had formerly been\nbuilt, and it was now the citadel. The citadel was surrounded on all\nparts with ramparts and towers which overlooked and commanded all the\nneighboring country. The command of this fortress was given to\nTarpeius, a noble Roman. He had a daughter named Tarpeia, whose name\nafterward became greatly celebrated in history, on account of the\npart which she took in the events of this siege, as will presently\nappear.\n\nAt the foot of the Capitoline hill, and on the western side of it,\nthat is, the side away from the city, there was a spacious plain which\nwas afterward included within the limits of the city, and used as a\nparade-ground, under the name of Campus Martius, which words mean the\n\"War Field.\" This field was now, however, an open plain, and the\nSabine army advancing to it, encamped upon it. The Sabine forces were\nmuch more numerous than those of the Romans, but the latter were so\nwell guarded and protected by their walls and fortifications, that\nTitus Tatius saw no feasible way of attacking them with any prospect\nof success. At last, one day as some of his officers were walking\naround the Capitoline hill, looking at the walls of the citadel,\nTarpeia came to one of the gates, which was in a retired and solitary\nposition, and entered into a parley with the men. The story of what\nfollowed is variously related by different historians, and it is now\ndifficult to ascertain the actual truth respecting it. The account\ngenerally received is this:--\n\n[Illustration: PROMISING THE BRACELETS.]\n\nTarpeia had observed the soldiers from the walls, and her attention\nhad been attracted by the bracelets and rings which they wore; and she\nfinally made an agreement with the Sabines that she would open the\npostern gate in the night, and let them in, if they would give her\nwhat they wore upon their arms, meaning the ornaments which had\nattracted her attention. The Sabines bound themselves to do this and\nthen went away. Titus Tatius, accordingly, when informed of this\narrangement, detailed a strong detachment of troops, and gave them\norders to repair at night in a very silent and secret manner to the\ngate which had been designated as the place where they were to be let\nin. It is asserted, however, by some writers, that this apparent\ntreachery on the part of Tarpeia was only a deep-laid stratagem on her\npart to draw the Sabines into a snare; and that she sent word to\nRomulus, informing him of the agreement which she had made, in order\nthat he might secretly dispatch a strong force to take their position\nat the gate, and intercept and capture the Sabine party as soon as\nthey should come in. But if this was Tarpeia's design, it totally\nfailed. The Sabines, when they came at midnight to the postern gate\nwhich Tarpeia opened for them, came in sufficient force to bear down\nall opposition; and in fulfillment of their promise to give Tarpeia\nwhat they wore upon their arms they threw their heavy bucklers upon\nher until she was crushed down beneath the weight of them and killed.\n\nA steep rock which forms that side of the Capitoline hill is called\nthe Tarpeian rock, in memory of this maiden, to the present day.\n\nIn this way the Sabines gained possession of the citadel, though\nRomulus still held the main city. The Romans were of course extremely\ndisconcerted at the loss of the citadel, and Romulus, finding that the\ndanger was now extremely imminent, resolved no longer to stand on the\ndefensive, but to come out upon the plain and offer the Sabines\nbattle. He accordingly brought his forces out of the city and took up\na strong position with them, between the Capitoline and Palatine\nhills, with his front toward the Campus Martius, where the main body\nof the Sabines were posted. Thus the armies were confronted against\neach other on the plain, the Romans holding the city and the Palatine\nhill as a stronghold to retreat to in case of necessity, while the\nSabines in the same manner could seek refuge on the Capitoline hill\nand in the citadel.\n\nThings being in this state a series of desperate but partial contests\nensued, which were continued for several days, when at length a\ngeneral battle came on. During all this time the walls of the city and\nof the citadel were lined with spectators who had ascended to witness\nthe combats; for from these walls and from the declivities of the\nhills, the whole plain could be looked down upon as if it were a map.\nThe battle continued all day. At night both parties were exhausted,\nand the field was covered with the dead and dying, but neither side\nhad gained a victory. The next day by common consent they suspended\nthe combat in order to take care of the wounded, and to bury the\nbodies of the dead.\n\nAfter the interval of a day, which was spent, on both sides, in\nremoving the horrid relics of the previous combats, and in gathering\nfresh strength and fresh desperation and rage for the conflicts yet to\ncome, the struggle was renewed. The soldiers fought now, on this\nrenewal of the battle, with more dreadful and deadly ferocity than\never. Various incidents occurred during the day to give one party or\nthe other a local or temporary advantage, but neither side wholly\nprevailed. At one time Romulus himself was exposed to the most\nimminent personal danger, and for a time it was thought that he was\nactually killed. The Romans had gained some great advantage over a\nparty of the Sabines, and the latter were rushing in a headlong flight\nto the citadel, the Romans pursuing them and hoping to follow them in,\nin the confusion, and thus regain possession of the fortress. To\nprevent this the Sabines within the citadel and on the rocks above\nthrew stones down upon the Romans. One of these stones struck Romulus\non the head, and he fell down stunned and senseless under the blow.\nHis men were extremely terrified at this disaster, and abandoning the\npursuit of their enemies they took up the body of Romulus and carried\nit into the city. It was found, however, that he was not seriously\ninjured. He soon recovered from the effects of the blow and returned\ninto the battle.\n\nAnother incident which occurred in the course of these battles has\nbeen commemorated in history, by having been the means of giving a\nname to a small lake or pool which was afterward brought within the\nlimits of the city. A Sabine general named Curtius happened at one\ntime to encounter Romulus in a certain part of the field, and a long\nand desperate combat ensued between the two champions. Other soldiers\ngradually came up and mingled in the fray, until at length Curtius,\nfinding himself wounded and bleeding, and surrounded by enemies, fled\nfor his life. Romulus pursued him for a short distance, but Curtius\nat length came suddenly upon a small swampy pool, which was formed of\nwater that had been left by the inundations of the river in some old\ndeserted channel, and which was now covered and almost concealed by\nsome sort of mossy and floating vegetation. Curtius running headlong,\nand paying little heed to his steps fell into this hole, and sank in\nthe water. Romulus supposed of course that he would be drowned there,\nand so turned away and went to find some other enemy. Curtius,\nhowever, succeeded in crawling out of the pond into which he had\nfallen; and in commemoration of the incident the pond was named Lake\nCurtius, which name it retained for centuries afterward, when, not\nonly had all the water disappeared, but the place itself had been\nfilled up, and had been covered with streets and houses.\n\nThe combats between the Romans and the Sabines were continued for\nseveral days, during all which time the Sabine women, on whose account\nit was that this dreadful quarrel had arisen, were suffering the\ngreatest anxiety and distress. They loved their fathers and brothers,\nbut then they loved their husbands too; and they were overwhelmed\nwith anguish at the thought that day after day those who were equally\ndear to them were engaged in fighting and destroying one another, and\nthat they could do nothing to arrest so unnatural a hostility.\n\nAt length, however, after suffering extreme distress for many days, a\ncrisis arrived when they found that they could interpose. Both parties\nhad become somewhat weary of the contest. Neither could prevail over\nthe other, and yet neither was willing to yield. The Sabines could not\nbring themselves to submit to so humiliating an alternative as to\nwithdraw from Rome and leave their daughters and sisters in the\ncaptors' hands, after all the grand preparations which they had made\nfor retaking them. And on the other hand the Romans could not take\nthose, who, whatever had been their previous history, were now living\nhappily as wives and mothers, each in her own house in the city, and\ngive them up to an army of invaders, demanding them with threats and\nviolence, without deep dishonor. Thus, though there was a pause in the\nconflict, and both parties were weary of it, neither was willing to\nyield, and both were preparing to return to the struggle with new\ndetermination and vigor.\n\nThe Sabine women thought that they might now interpose. A lady named\nHersilia, who is often mentioned as one of the most prominent among\nthe number, proposed this measure and made the arrangements for\ncarrying it into effect. She assembled her countrywomen and explained\nto them her plan, which was that they should go in a body to the Roman\nSenate, and ask permission to intercede between the contending\nnations, and plead for peace.\n\nThe company of women, taking their children with them, all of whom\nwere yet very young, went accordingly in a body to the senate-chamber,\nand asked to be admitted. The doors were opened to them, and they went\nin. They all appeared to be in great distress and agitation. The grief\nand anxiety which they had suffered during the progress of the war\nstill continued, and they begged the Senate to let them go out to the\ncamp of the Sabines, and endeavor to persuade them to make peace. The\nSenate were disposed to consent. The women wished to take their\nchildren with them, but some of the Romans imagined that there might,\nperhaps, be danger, that under pretense of interceding for peace, they\nwere really intending to make their escape from Rome altogether. So it\nwas insisted that they should leave their children behind them as\nhostages for their return, excepting that such as had two children\nwere allowed to take one, which plan it was thought would aid them in\nmoving the compassion of their Sabine relatives.\n\nThe women, accordingly, left the senate-chamber, and with their\nchildren in their arms, their hair disheveled, their robes disordered,\nand their countenances wan with grief, went in mournful procession out\nthrough the gate of the city. They passed across the plain and\nadvanced toward the citadel. They were admitted, and after some delay,\nwere ushered into the council of the Sabines. Here their tears and\nexclamations of grief broke forth anew. When silence was in some\nmeasure restored, Hersilia addressed the Sabine chieftains, saying,\nthat she and her companions had come to beg their countrymen to put an\nend to the war. \"We know,\" said she, \"that you are waging it on our\naccount, and we see in all that you have done proofs of your love for\nus. In fact, it was our supposed interests which led you to commence\nit, but now our real interests require that it should be ended. It is\ntrue that when we were first seized by the Romans we felt greatly\nwronged, but having submitted to our fate, we have now become settled\nin our new homes, and are contented and happy in them. We love our\nhusbands and love our children; and we are treated with the utmost\nkindness and respect by all. Do not then, under a mistaken kindness\nfor us, attempt to tear us away again, or continue this dreadful war,\nwhich, though ostensibly on our account, and for our benefit, is\nreally making us inexpressibly miserable.\"\n\nThis intercession produced the effect which might have been expected\nfrom it. The Sabines and Romans immediately entered upon negotiations\nfor peace, and peace is easily made where both parties are honestly\ndesirous of making it. In fact, a great reaction took place, so that\nfrom the reckless and desperate hostility which the two nations had\nfelt for each other, there succeeded so friendly a sentiment, that in\nthe end a treaty of union was made between the two nations. It was\nagreed that the two nations should be merged into one. The Sabine\nterritory was to be annexed to that of Rome, and Titus Tatius, with\nthe principal Sabine chieftains, were to remove to Rome, which was\nthenceforth to be the capital of the new kingdom. In a word never was\na reconciliation between two belligerent nations so sudden and so\ncomplete.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nTHE CONCLUSION.\n\nB.C. 764-717\n\nRomulus reigns in conjunction with the Sabine king.--The Roman\nForum.--Growth of the city.--Bold and comprehensive\nmeasures.--Cameria.--Difficulty with Titus Tatius.--Controversy\nbetween Romulus and Tatius.--The difficulty at Lavinium.--Tatius\nkilled.--Romulus once more sole king.--Rome assumes a general\njurisdiction over other states.--Foundation of the future greatness\nof Rome.--Circumstances connected with the death of Romulus.--Rumors\nin circulation.--Public opinion.--Proculus's story.--The ghost of\nRomulus.--The Romans satisfied.--The real truth not to be known.--The\ninterregnum.--A new king.\n\n\nAfter the termination of the Sabine war Romulus continued to reign\nmany years, and his reign, although no very exact and systematic\nhistory of it was recorded at the time, seems to have presented the\nusual variety of incidents and vicissitudes; and yet, notwithstanding\noccasional and partial reverses, the city, and the kingdom connected\nwith it, made rapid progress in wealth and population.\n\nFor four or five years after the union of the Sabines with the Romans,\nTitus Tatius was in some way or other associated with Romulus in the\ngovernment of the united kingdom. Romulus, during all this time, had\nhis house and his court on the Palatine hill, where the city had been\noriginally built, and where most of the Romans lived. The\nhead-quarters of the Sabine chieftain were, on the other hand, upon\nthe Capitoline hill, which was the place on which the citadel was\nsituated that his troops had taken possession of in the course of the\nwar, and which it seems they continued to occupy after the peace. The\nspace between the two hills was set apart as a market-place, or\n_forum_, as it was called in their language,--that place being\ndesignated for the purpose on account of its central and convenient\nsituation. When afterward that portion of the city became filled as it\ndid with magnificent streets and imposing architectural edifices, the\nspace which Romulus had set apart for a market remained an open public\nsquare, and as it was the scene in which transpired some of the most\nremarkable events connected with Roman history, it became renowned\nthroughout the world under the name of the Roman Forum.\n\nIn consequence of the union of the Romans and the Sabines, and of the\nrapid growth of the city in population and power which followed, the\nRoman state began soon to rise to so high a position in relation to\nthe surrounding cities and kingdoms, as soon to take precedence of\nthem altogether. This was owing, however, in part undoubtedly, to the\ncharacter of the men who governed at Rome. The measures which they\nadopted in founding the city, and in sustaining it through the first\nyears of its existence, as described in the foregoing chapters, were\nall of a very extraordinary character, and evinced very extraordinary\nqualities in the men who devised them. These measures were bold,\ncomprehensive and sagacious, and they were carried out with a certain\ncombination of courage and magnanimity which always gives to those who\npossess it, and who are in a position to exercise it on a commanding\nscale, great ascendency over the minds of men. They who possess these\nqualities generally feel their power, and are usually not slow to\nassert it. A singular and striking instance of this occurred not many\nyears after the peace with the Sabines. There was a city at some\ndistance from Rome called Cameria, whose inhabitants were a lawless\nhorde, and occasionally parties of them made incursions, as was said,\ninto the surrounding countries, for plunder. The Roman Senate sent\nword to the government of the city that such accusations were made\nagainst them, and very coolly cited them to appear at Rome for trial.\nThe Camerians of course refused to come. The Senate then declared war\nagainst them, and sent an army to take possession of the city,\nproceeding to act in the case precisely as if the Roman government\nconstituted a judicial tribunal, having authority to exercise\njurisdiction, and to enforce law and order, among all the nations\naround them. In fact, Rome continued to assert and to maintain this\nauthority over a wider and wider circle every year, until in the\ncourse of some centuries after Romulus's day, she made herself the\narbiter of the world.\n\nTitus Tatius shared the supreme power with Romulus at Rome for several\nyears, and the two monarchs continued during this time to exercise\ntheir joint power in a much more harmonious manner than would have\nbeen supposed possible. At length, however, causes of disagreement\nbegan to occur, and in the end open dissension took place, in the\ncourse of which Tatius came to his end in a very sudden and remarkable\nmanner. A party of soldiers from Rome, it seems, had been committing\nsome deed of violence at Lavinium, the ancient city which AEneas had\nbuilt when he first arrived in Latium. The people of Lavinium\ncomplained to Romulus against these marauders. It happened, however,\nthat the guilty men were chiefly Sabines, and in the discussions which\ntook place at Rome afterward in relation to the affair, Tatius took\ntheir part, and endeavored to shield them, while Romulus seemed\ndisposed to give them up to the Lavinians for punishment. \"They are\nrobbers and murderers,\" said Romulus, \"and we ought not to shield them\nfrom the penalty due to their crimes.\" \"They are Roman citizens,\" said\nTatius, \"and we must not give them up to a foreign state.\" The\ncontroversy became warm; parties were formed; and at last the\nexasperation became so great that when the Lavinian envoys, who had\ncome to Rome to demand the punishment of the robbers, were returning\nhome, a gang of Tatius's men intercepted them on the way and killed\nthem.\n\nThis of course increased the excitement and the difficulty in a\ntenfold degree. Romulus immediately sent to Lavinium to express his\ndeep regret at what had occurred, and his readiness to do every thing\nin his power to expiate the offense which his countrymen had\ncommitted. He would arrest these murderers, he said, and send them to\nLavinium, and he would come himself, with Tatius, to Lavinium, and\nthere make an expiatory offering to the gods, in attestation of the\nabhorrence which they both felt for so atrocious a crime as waylaying\nand murdering the embassadors of a friendly city. Tatius was compelled\nto assent to these measures, though he yielded very reluctantly. He\ncould not openly defend such a deed as the murder of the envoys; and\nso he consented to accompany Romulus to Lavinium, to make the\noffering, but he secretly arranged a plan for rescuing the murderers\nfrom the Lavinians, after they had been given up. Accordingly, while\nhe and Romulus were at Lavinium offering the sacrifices, news came\nthat the murderers of the envoys, on their way from Rome to Lavinium,\nhad been rescued and allowed to escape. This news so exasperated the\npeople of Lavinium against Tatius, for they considered him as\nunquestionably the secret author and contriver of the deed, that they\nrose upon him at the festival, and murdered him with the butcher\nknives and spits which had been used for slaughtering and roasting the\nanimals. They then formed a grand procession and escorted Romulus out\nof the city in safety with loud acclamations.\n\nThe government of Lavinium, as soon as the excitement of the scene was\nover, fearing the resentment which they very naturally supposed\nRomulus would feel at the murder of his colleague, seized the\nringleaders of the riot, and sent them bound to Rome, to place them at\nthe disposal of the Roman government. Romulus sent them back unharmed,\ndirecting them to say to the Lavinian government, that he considered\nthe death of Tatius, though inflicted in a mode lawless and\nunjustifiable, as nevertheless, in itself, only a just expiation for\nthe murder of the Lavinian embassadors, which Tatius had instigated or\nauthorized.\n\nThe Sabines of Rome were for a time greatly exasperated at these\noccurrences, but Romulus succeeded in gradually quieting and calming\nthem, and they finally acquiesced in his decision. Romulus thus became\nonce more the sole and undisputed master of Rome.\n\nAfter this the progress of the city in wealth and prosperity, from\nyear to year, was steady and sure, interrupted, it is true, by\noccasional and temporary reverses, but with no real retrocession at\nany time. Causes of disagreement arose from time to time with\nneighboring states, and, in such cases, Romulus always first sent a\nsummons to the party implicated, whether king or people, citing them\nto appear and answer for their conduct before the Roman Senate. If\nthey refused to come, he sent an armed force against them, as if he\nwere simply enforcing the jurisdiction of a tribunal of justice. The\nresult usually was that the refractory state was compelled to submit,\nand its territories were added to those of the kingdom of Rome. Thus\nthe boundaries of the new empire were widening and extending every\nyear.\n\nRomulus paid great attention, in the mean time, to every thing\npertaining to the internal organization of the state, so as to bring\nevery part of the national administration into the best possible\ncondition. The municipal police, the tribunals of justice, the social\ninstitutions and laws of the industrial classes, the discipline of the\ntroops, the enlargement and increase of the fortifications of the\ncity, and the supply of arms, and stores, and munitions of war,--and\nevery other subject, in fact, connected with the welfare and\nprosperity of the city,--occupied his thoughts in every interval of\npeace and tranquillity. In consequence of the exertions which he made,\nand the measures which he adopted, order and system prevailed more\nand more in every department, and the community became every year\nbetter organized, and more and more consolidated; so that the capacity\nof the city to receive accessions to the population increased even\nfaster than accessions were made. In a word, the solid foundations\nwere laid of that vast superstructure, which, in subsequent ages,\nbecame the wonder of the world.\n\nNotwithstanding, however, all this increasing greatness and\nprosperity, Romulus was not without rivals and enemies, even among his\nown people at Rome. The leading senators became, at last, envious and\njealous of his power. They said that he himself grew imperious and\ndomineering in spirit, as he grew older, and manifested a pride and\nhaughtiness of demeanor which excited their ill-will. He assumed too\nmuch authority, they said, in the management of public affairs, as if\nhe were an absolute and despotic sovereign. He wore a purple robe on\npublic occasions, as a badge of royalty. He organized a body-guard of\nthree hundred young troopers, who rode before him whenever he moved\nabout the city; and in all respects assumed such pomp and parade in\nhis demeanor, and exercised such a degree of arbitrary power in his\nacts, as made him many enemies. The whole Senate became, at length,\ngreatly disaffected.\n\nAt last one day, on occasion of a great review which took place at a\nlittle distance from the city, there came up a sudden shower, attended\nwith thunder and lightning, and the violence of the tempest was such\nas to compel the soldiers to retire precipitately from the ground in\nsearch of some place of shelter. Romulus was left with a number of\nsenators who were at that time attending upon him, alone, on the shore\nof a little lake which was near the place that had been chosen for the\nparade. After a short time the senators themselves came away from the\nground, and returned to the city; but Romulus was not with them. The\nstory which they told was that in the middle of the tempest, Romulus\nhad been suddenly enveloped in a flame which seemed to come down in a\nbright flash of lightning from the clouds, and immediately afterward\nhad been taken up in the flame to heaven.\n\n[Illustration: THE DEATH OF ROMULUS.]\n\nThis strange story was but half believed even at first, by the\npeople, and very soon rumors began to circulate in the city that\nRomulus had been murdered by the senators who were around him at the\ntime of the shower,--they having seized the occasion afforded by the\nmomentary absence of his guards, and by their solitary position. There\nwere various surmises in respect to the disposal which the assassins\nhad made of the body. The most obvious supposition was that it had\nbeen sunk in the lake. There was, however, a horrible report\ncirculated that the senators had disposed of it by cutting it up into\nsmall pieces, and conveying it away, each taking a portion, under\ntheir robes.\n\nOf course these rumors produced great agitation and excitement\nthroughout the city. The current of public sentiment set strongly\nagainst the senators. Still as nothing could be positively ascertained\nin respect to the transaction, the mystery seemed to grow more dark\nand dreadful every day, and the public mind was becoming more and more\ndeeply agitated. At length, however, the mystery was suddenly\nexplained by a revelation, which, whatever may be thought of it at the\npresent day, was then entirely satisfactory to the whole community.\n\nOne of the most prominent and distinguished of the senators, named\nProculus, one who it seems had not been present among the other\nsenators in attendance upon Romulus at the time when he disappeared,\ncame forward one day before a grand assembly which had been convened\nfor the purpose, and announced to them in the most solemn manner, that\nthe spirit of Romulus had appeared to him in a visible form, and had\nassured him that the story which the other senators had told of the\nascension of their chieftain to heaven in a flame of fire was really\ntrue. \"I was journeying,\" said Proculus, \"in a solitary place, when\nRomulus appeared to me. At first I was exceedingly terrified. The form\nof the vision was taller than that of a mortal man, and it was clothed\nin armor of the most resplendent brightness. As soon as I had in some\nmeasure recovered my composure I spoke to it. 'Why,' said I, 'have you\nleft us so suddenly? and especially why did you leave us at such a\ntime, and in such a way, as to bring suspicion and reproach on the\nRoman senators?' 'I left you,' said he, 'because it pleased the gods\nto call me back again to heaven, whence I originally came. It was no\nlonger necessary for me to remain on earth, for Rome is now\nestablished, and her future greatness and glory are sure. Go back to\nRome and communicate this to the people. Tell them that if they\ncontinue industrious, virtuous, and brave, the time will come when\ntheir city will be the mistress of the world; and that I, no longer\nits king, am henceforth to be its tutelar divinity.'\"\n\nThe people of Rome were overjoyed to hear this communication. Their\ndoubts and suspicions were now all removed; the senators at once\nrecovered their good standing in the public regard, and all was once\nmore peace and harmony. Altars were immediately erected to Romulus,\nand the whole population of the city joined in making sacrifices and\nin paying other divine honors to his memory.\n\nThe declaration of Proculus that he had seen the spirit of Romulus,\nand his report of the conversation which the spirit had addressed to\nhim, constituted proof of the highest kind, according to the ideas\nwhich prevailed in those ancient days. In modern times, however, there\nis no faith in such a story, and the truth in respect to the end of\nRomulus can now never be known.\n\nAfter the death of Romulus the senators undertook to govern the State\nthemselves, holding the supreme power one by one, in regular rotation.\nThis plan was, however, not found to succeed, and after an interregnum\nof about a year, the people elected another king.\n\n               THE END.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S NOTES\n\n\n1. Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors, and to\nensure consistent spelling and punctuation in this etext; otherwise,\nevery effort has been made to remain true to the original book.\n\n2. The chapter summaries in this text were originally published as\nbanners in the page headers, and have been moved to beginning of the\nchapter for the reader's convenience.\n\n3. In the chart on page 46, detailing the original Greek alphabet, the\ntypesetter's appear to have missed the 7th letter, kappa. The\ncorrection has been made, based on the discussion in \"History of the\nGreek Alphabet,\" by E. A. Sophocles, published in 1848, by George\nNichols, Boston.","title":"Romulus: Makers of History","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":57196}