Makers of History

 Romulus

 BY JACOB ABBOTT

 WITH ENGRAVINGS

 NEW YORK AND LONDON

 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS

 1901

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by

 HARPER & BROTHERS, in the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York. 

 Copyright, 1880, by BENJAMIN VAUGHAN ABBOTT, AUSTIN ABBOTT, LYMAN ABBOTT, and EDWARD ABBOTT. 

[Illustration: THE HARPIES. ]

PREFACE

In writing the series of historical narratives to which the presentwork pertains, it has been the object of the author to furnish to thereading community of this country an accurate and faithful account ofthe lives and actions of the several personages that are madesuccessively the subjects of the volumes, following precisely thestory which has come down to us from ancient times. The writer hasspared no pains to gain access in all cases to the original sources ofinformation, and has confined himself strictly to them. The readermay, therefore, feel assured in perusing any one of these works, thatthe interest of it is in no degree indebted to the invention of theauthor. No incident, however trivial, is ever added to the originalaccount, nor are any words even, in any case, attributed to a speakerwithout express authority. Whatever of interest, therefore, thesestories may possess, is due solely to the facts themselves which arerecorded in them, and to their being brought together in a plain, simple, and connected narrative. 

 CONTENTS. 

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I. CADMUS 13

 II. CADMUS'S LETTERS 36

 III. THE STORY OF ÆNEAS 59

 IV. THE DESTRUCTION OF TROY 79

 V. THE FLIGHT OF ÆNEAS 103

 VI. THE LANDING IN LATIUM 131

 VII. RHEA SILVIA 155

 VIII. THE TWINS 179

 IX. THE FOUNDING OF ROME 202

 X. ORGANIZATION 225

 XI. WIVES 248

 XII. THE SABINE WAR 270

 XIII. THE CONCLUSION 295

ENGRAVINGS. 

 PAGE

 THE HARPIES _Frontispiece. _

 JUPITER AND EUROPA 28

 MAP--JOURNEYINGS OF CADMUS 30

 SYMBOLICAL WRITING 37

 SYMBOLICAL AND PHONETIC WRITING 44

 HIEROGLYPHICS 56

 MAP--ORIGIN OF VENUS 61

 ÆNEAS DEFENDING THE BODY OF PANDARUS 68

 THE TORTOISE 98

 HELEN 105

 MAP--WANDERINGS OF ÆNEAS 119

 MAP--LATIUM 134

 SILVIA'S STAG 145

 RHEA SILVIA 180

 FAUSTULUS AND THE TWINS 184

 SITUATION OF ROME 209

 PROMISING THE BRACELETS 284

 THE DEATH OF ROMULUS 305

ROMULUS

CHAPTER I. 

CADMUS. 

B. C. 1500

Different kinds of greatness. --Founders of cities. --Rome. --Interestin respect to its origin. --The story of Æneas. --The Mediterraneansea. --Italy and Greece in ancient times, and now. --Ancientchieftains. --Their modes of life. --Religious ideas of the ancientGreeks and Romans. --Ancient studies of nature. --Purpose ofthem. --History. --Ancient poems and tales. --How far foundedin fact. --Cadmus. --Interest felt in respect to theorigin of writing. --True story of Cadmus. --His fatherAgenor. --Europa. --Telephassa. --The pursuit of Europa. --Fruitlessresult. --Cadmus settles in Greece. --Thebes. --Arts introduced byhim. --The ancient legend of Cadmus. --Jupiter. --Adventures ofJupiter. --His love for Europa. --His elopement. --Jupiter and Europain Crete. --The expedition of Cadmus. --His various wanderings. --Deathof Telephassa. --Visit to the oracle at Delphi. --The directions ofthe racle. --Cadmus finds his guide. --The place for his citydetermined. --The fountain of Dirce. --The dragon's teeth. --Thebesbuilt. --Cadmia. --Ancient ideas of probability. --Belief in supernaturaltales. --Final recording of the ancient tales. 

Some men are renowned in history on account of the extraordinarypowers and capacities which they exhibited in the course of theircareer, or the intrinsic greatness of the deeds which they performed. Others, without having really achieved any thing in itself very greator wonderful, have become widely known to mankind by reason of thevast consequences which, in the subsequent course of events, resultedfrom their doings. Men of this latter class are conspicuous ratherthan great. From among thousands of other men equally exalted incharacter with themselves, they are brought out prominently to thenotice of mankind only in consequence of the strong light reflected, by great events subsequently occurring, back upon the position wherethey happened to stand. 

The celebrity of Romulus seems to be of this latter kind. He founded acity. A thousand other men have founded cities; and in doing theirwork have evinced perhaps as much courage, sagacity, and mental poweras Romulus displayed. The city of Romulus, however, became in the endthe queen and mistress of the world. It rose to so exalted a positionof influence and power, and retained its ascendency so long, that nowfor twenty centuries every civilized nation in the western world havefelt a strong interest in every thing pertaining to its history, andhave been accustomed to look back with special curiosity to thecircumstances of its origin. In consequence of this it has happenedthat though Romulus, in his actual day, performed no very greatexploits, and enjoyed no pre-eminence above the thousand otherhalf-savage chieftains of his class, whose names have been longforgotten, and very probably while he lived never dreamed of anyextended fame, yet so brilliant is the illumination which thesubsequent events of history have shed upon his position and hisdoings, that his name and the incidents of his life have been broughtout very conspicuously to view, and attract very strongly theattention of mankind. 

 * * * * *

The history of Rome is usually made to begin with the story of Æneas. In order that the reader may understand in what light that romantictale is to be regarded, it is necessary to premise some statements inrespect to the general condition of society in ancient days, and tothe nature of the strange narrations, circulated in those earlyperiods among mankind, out of which in later ages, when the art ofwriting came to be introduced, learned men compiled and recorded whatthey termed history. 

The countries which formed the shores of the Mediterranean sea were asverdant and beautiful, in those ancient days, and perhaps as fruitfuland as densely populated as in modern times. The same Italy and Greecewere there then as now. There were the same blue and beautiful seas, the same mountains, the same picturesque and enchanting shores, thesame smiling valleys, and the same serene and genial sky. The levellands were tilled industriously by a rural population correspondingin all essential points of character with the peasantry of moderntimes; and shepherds and herdsmen, then as now, hunted the wildbeasts, and watched their flocks and herds on the declivities of themountains. In a word, the appearance of the face of nature, and theperformance of the great function of the social state, namely, theprocuring of food and clothing for man by the artificial cultivationof animal and vegetable life, were substantially the same on theshores of the Mediterranean two thousand years ago as now. Even theplants and the animals themselves which the ancient inhabitantsreared, have undergone no essential change. Their sheep and oxen andhorses were the same as ours. So were their grapes, their apples, andtheir corn. 

If, however, we leave the humbler classes and occupations of society, and turn our attention to those which represent the refinement, thecultivation, and the power, of the two respective periods, we shallfind that almost all analogy fails. There was an aristocracy then asnow, ruling over the widely extended communities of peacefulagriculturalists and herdsmen, but the members of it were entirelydifferent in their character, their tastes, their ideas, and theiroccupations from the classes which exercise the prerogatives ofgovernment in Europe in modern times. The nobles then were militarychieftains, living in camps or in walled cities, which they built forthe accommodation of themselves and their followers. These chieftainswere not barbarians. They were in a certain sense cultivated andrefined. They gathered around them in their camps and in their courtsorators, poets, statesmen, and officers of every grade, who seem tohave possessed the same energy, genius, taste, and in some respectsthe same scientific skill, which have in all ages and in every climecharacterized the upper classes of the Caucasian race. They carriedall the arts which were necessary for their purposes and plans to highperfection, and in the invention of tales, ballads and poems, to berecited at their entertainments and feasts, they evinced the mostadmirable taste and skill;--a taste and skill which, as they resultednot from the operation and influence of artificial rules, but from theunerring instinct of genius, have never been surpassed. In fact, thepoetical inventions of those early days, far from having beenproduced in conformity with rules, were entirely precedent to rules, in the order of time. Rules were formed from them; for they at lengthbecame established themselves in the estimation of mankind, as models, and on their authority as models, the whole theory of rhetorical andpoetical beauty now mainly reposes. 

The people of those days formed no idea of a spiritual world, or of aspiritual divinity. They however imagined, that heroes of former daysstill continued to live and to reign in certain semi-heavenly regionsamong the summits of their blue and beautiful mountains, and that theywere invested there with attributes in some respects divine. Inaddition to these divinities, the fertile fancy of those ancient timesfilled the earth, the air, the sea, and the sky with imaginary beings, all most graceful and beautiful in their forms, and poetical in theirfunctions, --and made them the subjects, too, of innumerable legendsand tales, as graceful, poetical, and beautiful as themselves. Everygrove, and fountain, and river, --every lofty summit among themountains, and every rock and promontory along the shores of thesea, --every cave, every valley, every water-fall, had its imaginaryoccupant, --the genius of the spot; so that every natural object whichattracted public notice at all, was the subject of some picturesqueand romantic story. In a word, nature was not explored then as now, for the purpose of ascertaining and recording cold and scientificrealities, --but to be admired, and embellished, and animated;--and tobe peopled, everywhere, with exquisitely beautiful, though imaginaryand supernatural, life and action. 

What the genius of imagination and romance did thus in ancient timeswith the scenery of nature, it did also on the field of history. Menexplored that field not at all to learn sober and actual realities, but to find something that they might embellish and adorn, and animatewith supernatural and marvelous life. What the sober realities mighthave actually been, was of no interest or moment to them whatever. There were no scholars then as now, living in the midst of libraries, and finding constant employment, and a never-ending pleasure, inresearches for the simple investigation of the truth. There was infact no retirement, no seclusion, no study. Every thing except whatrelated to the mere daily toil of tilling the ground bore directrelation to military expeditions, spectacles and parades; and the onlyfield for the exercise of that kind of intellectual ability which isemployed in modern times in investigating and recording historictruth, was the invention and recitation of poems, dramas and tales, toamuse great military audiences in camps or public gatherings, convenedto witness shows or games, or to celebrate great religious festivals. Of course under such circumstances there would be no interest felt intruth as truth. Romance and fable would be far more serviceable forsuch ends than reality. 

Still it is obvious that such tales as were invented to amuse for thepurposes we have described, would have a deeper interest for those wholistened to them, if founded in some measure upon fact, and connectedin respect to the scene of their occurrence, with real localities. Aprince and his court sitting at their tables in the palace or thetent, at the close of a feast, would listen with greater interest to astory that purported to be an account of the deeds and the marvelousadventures of their own ancestors, than to one that was wholly andavowedly imaginary. The inventors of these tales would of coursegenerally choose such subjects, and their narrations would generallyconsist therefore rather of embellishments of actual transactions, than of inventions wholly original. Their heroes were consequentlyreal men; the principal actions ascribed to them were real actions, and the places referred to were real localities. Thus there was asemblance of truth and reality in all these tales which added greatlyto the interest of them; while there were no means of ascertaining thereal truth, and thus spoiling the story by making the falsehood orimprobability of it evident and glaring. 

We cannot well have a better illustration of these principles than isafforded by the story of Cadmus, an adventurer who was said to havebrought the knowledge of alphabetic writing into Greece from somecountries farther eastward. In modern times there is a very stronginterest felt in ascertaining the exact truth on this subject. The artof writing with alphabetic characters was so great an invention, andit has exerted so vast an influence on the condition and progress ofmankind since it was introduced, that a very strong interest is nowfelt in every thing that can be ascertained as actually fact, inrespect to its origin. If it were possible now to determine under whatcircumstances the method of representing the elements of sound bywritten characters was first devised, to discover who it was thatfirst conceived the idea, and what led him to make the attempt, whatdifficulties he encountered, to what purposes he first applied hisinvention, and to what results it led, the whole world would take avery strong interest in the revelation. The essential point, however, to be observed, is that it is the _real truth_ in respect to thesubject that the world are now interested in knowing. Were a romancewriter to invent a tale in respect to the origin of writing, howeveringenious and entertaining it might be in its details, it would excitein the learned world at the present day no interest whatever. 

There is in fact no account at present existing in respect to theactual origin of alphabetic characters, though there is an account ofthe circumstances under which the art was brought into Europe fromAsia, where it seems to have been originally invented. We will givethe facts, first in their simple form, and then the narrative in theform in which it was related in ancient times, as embellished by theancient story-tellers. 

The facts then, as now generally understood and believed, are, thatthere was a certain king in some country in Africa, named Agenor, wholived about 1500 years before Christ. He had a daughter named Europa, and several sons. Among his sons was one named Cadmus. Europa was abeautiful girl, and after a time a wandering adventurer from some partof the northern shores of the Mediterranean sea, came into Africa, andwas so much pleased with her that he resolved if possible, to obtainher for his wife. He did not dare to make proposals openly, and heaccordingly disguised himself and mingled with the servants uponAgenor's farm. In this disguise he succeeded in making acquaintancewith Europa, and finally persuaded her to elope with him. The pairaccordingly fled, and crossing the Mediterranean they went to Crete, an island near the northern shores of the sea, and there they livedtogether. 

The father, when he found that his daughter had deceived him and goneaway, was very indignant, and sent Cadmus and his brothers in pursuitof her. The mother of Europa, whose name was Telephassa, though lessindignant perhaps than the father, was overwhelmed with grief at theloss of her child, and determined to accompany her sons in the search. She accordingly took leave of her husband and of her native land, andset out with Cadmus and her other sons on the long journey in searchof her lost child. Agenor charged his sons never to come home againunless they brought Europa with them. 

Cadmus, with his mother and brothers, traveled slowly toward thenorthward, along the eastern shores of the Mediterranean sea, inquiring everywhere for the fugitive. They passed through Syria andPhenicia, into Asia Minor, and from Asia Minor into Greece. At lengthTelephassa, worn down, perhaps, by fatigue, disappointment, and grief, died. Cadmus and his brothers soon after became discouraged; and atlast, weary with their wanderings, and prevented by their father'sinjunction from returning without Europa, they determined to settle inGreece. In attempting to establish themselves there, however, theybecame involved in various conflicts, first with wild beasts, andafterward with men, the natives of the land, who seemed to spring up, as it were, from the ground, to oppose them. They contrived, however, at length, by fomenting quarrels among their enemies, and taking sideswith one party against the rest, to get a permanent footing in Greece, and Cadmus finally founded a city there, which he called Thebes. 

In establishing the institutions and government of Thebes, and inarranging the organization of the people into a social state, Cadmusintroduced among them several arts, which, in that part of thecountry, had been before unknown. One of these arts was the use ofcopper, which metal he taught his new subjects to procure from the oreobtained in mines. There were several others; but the most importantof all was that he taught them sixteen letters representing elementaryvocal sounds, by means of which inscriptions of words could be carvedupon monuments, or upon tablets of metal or of stone. 

It is not supposed that the idea of representing the elements of vocalsounds by characters _originated_ with Cadmus, or that he invented thecharacters himself. He brought them with him undoubtedly, but whetherfrom Egypt or Phenicia, can not now be known. 

Such are the facts of the case, as now generally understood andbelieved. Let us now compare this simple narration with the romantictale which the early story-tellers made from it. The legend, as theyrelate it, is as follows. 

Jupiter was a prince born and bred among the summits of Mount Ida, inCrete. His father's name was Saturn. Saturn had made an agreement thathe would cause all his sons to be slain, as soon as they were born. This was to appease his brother, who was his rival, and who consentedthat Saturn should continue to reign only on that condition. 

Jupiter's mother, however, was very unwilling that her boys should bethus cruelly put to death, and she contrived to conceal three of them, and save them. The three thus preserved were brought up among thesolitudes of the mountains, watched and attended by nymphs, and nursedby a goat. After they grew up, they engaged from time to time invarious wars, and met with various wonderful adventures, until atlength Jupiter, the oldest of them, succeeded, by means ofthunderbolts which he caused to be forged for his use, in vastsubterranean caverns beneath Mount Etna and Mount Vesuvius, conqueredall his enemies, and became universal king. He, however, divided hisempire between himself and his brothers, giving to them respectivelythe command of the sea and of the subterranean regions, while hereserved the earth and the heavenly regions for himself. 

[Illustration: JUPITER AND EUROPA. ]

He established his usual abode among the mountains of Northern Greece, but he often made excursions to and fro upon the earth, appearing invarious disguises, and meeting with a great number of strange andmarvelous adventures. In the course of these wanderings he found hisway at one time into Egypt, and to the dominions of Agenor, --and therehe saw Agenor's beautiful daughter, Europa. He immediately determinedto make her his bride; and to secure this object he assumed the formof a very finely shaped and beautiful bull, and in this guise joinedhimself to Agenor's herds of cattle. Europa soon saw him there. Shewas much pleased with the beauty of his form, and finding him gentleand kind in disposition, she approached him, patted his glossy neckand sides, and in other similar ways gratified the prince by marks ofher admiration and pleasure. She was at length induced by some secretand magical influence which the prince exerted over her, to mount uponhis back, and allow herself to be borne away. The bull ran with hisburden to the shore, and plunged into the waves. He swam across thesea to Crete, [A] and there, resuming his proper form, he made theprincess his bride. 

[Footnote A: See Map, p. 30. ]

Agenor and Telephassa, when they found that their daughter was gone, were in great distress, and Agenor immediately determined to send hissons on an expedition in pursuit of her. The names of his sons wereCadmus, Phoenix, Cylix, Thasus, and Phineus. Cadmus, as the oldestson, was to be the director of the expedition. Telephassa, the mother, resolved to accompany them, so overwhelmed was she with affliction atthe loss of her daughter. Agenor himself was almost equally oppressedwith the calamity which had over whelmed them, and he charged his sonsnever to come home again until they could bring Europa with them. 

Telephassa and her sons wandered for a time in the countries east ofthe Mediterranean sea, without being able to obtain any tidings of thefugitive. At length they passed into Asia Minor, and from Asia Minorinto Thrace, a country lying north of the Egean Sea. Finding no tracesof their sister in any of these countries, the sons of Agenor becamediscouraged, and resolved to make no farther search; and Telephassa, exhausted with anxiety and fatigue, and now overwhelmed with thethought that all hope must be finally abandoned, sank down and died. 

[Illustration: THE JOURNEYING OF CADMUS. ]

Cadmus and his brothers were much affected at their mother's death. They made arrangements for her burial, in a manner befitting her highrank and station, and when the funeral solemnities had been performed, Cadmus repaired to the oracle at Delphi, which was situated in thenorthern part of Greece, not very far from Thrace, in order that hemight inquire there whether there was any thing more that he could doto recover his lost sister, and if so to learn what course he was topursue. The oracle replied to him that he must search for his sisterno more, but instead of it turn his attention wholly to the work ofestablishing a home and a kingdom for himself, in Greece. To this endhe was to travel on in a direction indicated, until he met with a cowof a certain kind, described by the oracle, and then to follow the cowwherever she might lead the way, until at length, becoming fatigued, she should stop and lie down. Upon the spot where the cow should liedown he was to build a city and make it his capital. 

Cadmus obeyed these directions of the oracle. He left Delphi and wenton, attended, as he had been in all his wanderings, by a troop ofcompanions and followers, until at length in the herds of one of thepeople of the country, named Pelagon, he found a cow answering to thedescription of the oracle. Taking this cow for his guide, he followedwherever she led the way. She conducted him toward the southward andeastward for thirty or forty miles, and at length wearied apparently, by her long journey, she lay down. Cadmus knew immediately that thiswas the spot where his city was to stand. 

He began immediately to make arrangements for the building of thecity, but he determined first to offer the cow that had been hisdivinely appointed guide to the spot, as a sacrifice to Minerva, whomhe always considered as his guardian goddess. 

Near the spot where the cow lay down there was a small stream whichissued from a fountain not far distant, called the fountain of Dirce. Cadmus sent some of his men to the place to obtain some water which itwas necessary to use in the ceremonies of the sacrifice. It happened, however, that this fountain was a sacred one, having been consecratedto Mars, --and there was a great dragon, a son of Mars, stationed thereto guard it. The men whom Cadmus sent did not return, and accordinglyCadmus himself, after waiting a suitable time, proceeded to the spotto ascertain the cause of the delay. He found that the dragon hadkilled his men, and at the time when he arrived at the spot, themonster was greedily devouring the bodies. Cadmus immediatelyattacked the dragon and slew him, and then tore his teeth out of hishead, as trophies of his victory. Minerva had assisted Cadmus in thiscombat, and when it was ended she directed him to plant the teeth ofthe dragon in the ground. Cadmus did so, and immediately a host ofarmed men sprung up from the place where he had planted them. Cadmusthrew a stone among these armed men, when they immediately began tocontend together in a desperate conflict, until at length all but fiveof them were slain. These five then joined themselves to Cadmus, andhelped him to build his city. 

He went on very successfully after this. The city which he built wasThebes, which afterward became greatly celebrated. The citadel whichhe erected within, he called, from his own name, Cadmia. 

Such were the legends which were related in ancient poems and tales;and it is obvious that such narratives must have been composed toentertain groups of listeners whose main desire was to be excited andamused, and not to be instructed. The stories were believed, no doubt, and the faith which the hearer felt in their truth added of coursevery greatly to the interest which they awakened in his mind. Thestories are _amusing_ to us; but it is impossible for us to share inthe deep and solemn emotion with which the ancient audiences listenedto them, for we have not the power, as they had, of believing them. Such tales related in respect to the great actors on the stage inmodern times, would awaken no interest, for there is too general adiffusion both of historical and philosophical knowledge to render itpossible for any one to suppose them to be true. But those for whomthe story of Europa was invented, had no means of knowing how wide theMediterranean sea might be, and whether a bull might not swim acrossit. They did not know but that Mars might have a dragon for a son, andthat the teeth of such a dragon might not, when sown in the ground, spring up in the form of a troop of armed men. They listened thereforeto the tale with an interest all the more earnest and solemn onaccount of the marvelousness of the recital. They repeated it word forword to one another, around their camp-fires, at their feasts, intheir journeyings, --and when watching their flocks at midnight, amongthe solitudes of the mountains. Thus the tales were handed down fromgeneration to generation, until at length the use of the letters ofCadmus became so far facilitated, that continuous narrations could beexpressed by means of them; and then they were put permanently uponrecord in many forms, and were thus transmitted without any fartherchange to the present age. 

CHAPTER II. 

CADMUS'S LETTERS. 

B. C. 1500

Two modes of writing. --Symbols. --Example. --Symbol of the Deity. --Ancientsymbols. --The Egyptian hieroglyphics phonetic. --Naturalsymbols. --Mexican record. --Arbitrary symbols. --Advantages of thesymbolical mode of writing. --The meaning of them more easilyunderstood. --Comparison of the two systems. --Further comparison of thetwo systems. --Two modes of representing the idea of a battle. --Greatadvantages of the phonetic mode of writing. --Uncertainty of the originof phonetic writing. --Cadmus's alphabet. --Difficulties attending theintroduction of it. --Different modes of writing. --The art of writing atfirst very little used. --Proofs of this. --Story of the lots. --Otherinstances. --The invention of papyrus. --Mode of manufacturingpapyrus. --Volumes. --Mode of using ancient books. --Ink. --Ink found atHerculaneum. --Recent discoveries in respect to the Egyptianhieroglyphics. --Specimen of Egyptian hieroglyphics. --Explanation ofthe figures. --Moses in Egypt. --Importance of the art of writing. 

There are two modes essentially distinct from each other, by whichideas may be communicated through the medium of inscriptions addressedto the eye. These two modes are, first, by _symbolical_, and secondly, by _phonetic_ characters. Each of these two systems assumes, in fact, within itself, quite a variety of distinct forms, though it is onlythe general characteristics which distinguish the two great classesfrom each other, that we shall have occasion particularly to noticehere. 

[Illustration: SYMBOLICAL WRITING]

Symbolical writing consists of characters intended severally to denote_ideas_ or _things_, and not words. A good example of true symbolicalwriting is to be found in a certain figure often employed among thearchitectural decorations of churches, as an emblem of the Deity. Itconsists of a triangle representing the Trinity with the figure of aneye in the middle of it. The eye is intended to denote the divineomniscience. Such a character as this, is obviously the symbol of anidea, not the representative of a word. It may be read Jehovah, orGod, or the Deity, or by any other word or phrase by which men areaccustomed to denote the Supreme Being. It represents, in fine, theidea, and not any particular word by which the idea is expressed. 

The first attempts of men to preserve records of facts by means ofinscriptions, have, in all ages, and among all nations, been of thischaracter. At first, the inscriptions so made were strictly pictures, in which the whole scene intended to be commemorated was represented, in rude carvings. In process of time substitutions and abridgmentswere adopted in lieu of full representations, and these grew at lengthinto a system of hieroglyphical characters, some natural, and othersmore or less arbitrary, but all denoting _ideas_ or _things_, and notthe sounds of words. These characters are of the kind usuallyunderstood by the word hieroglyphics; though that word can not nowwith strict accuracy be applied as a distinctive appellation, since ithas been ascertained in modern times that a large portion of theEgyptian hieroglyphics are of such a nature as brings them within thesecond of the two classes which we are here describing, that is, theseveral delineations represent the sounds and syllables of words, instead of being symbols of ideas or things. 

It happened that in some cases in this species of writing, as used inancient times, the characters which were employed presented in theirform some natural resemblance to the thing signified, and in othercases they were wholly arbitrary. Thus, the figure of a scepterdenoted a king, that of a lion, strength; and two warriors, one with ashield, and the other advancing toward the first with a bow and arrow, represented a battle. We use in fact a symbol similar to thelast-mentioned one at the present day, upon maps, where we often see acharacter formed by two swords crossed, employed to represent abattle. 

The ancient Mexicans had a mode of writing which seems to have beensymbolical in its character, and their characters had, many of themat least, a natural signification. The different cities and towns wererepresented by drawings of such simple objects as were characteristicof them respectively; as a plant, a tree, an article of manufacture, or any other object by which the place in question was most easily andnaturally to be distinguished from other places. In one of theirinscriptions, for example, there was a character representing a king, and before it four heads. Each of the heads was accompanied by thesymbol of the capital of a province, as above described. The meaningof the whole inscription was that in a certain tumult or insurrectionthe king caused the governors of the four cities to be beheaded. 

But though, in this symbolical mode of writing, a great many ideas andevents could be represented thus, by means of signs or symbols havinga greater or less resemblance to the thing signified, yet in manycases the characters used were wholly arbitrary. They were in thisrespect like the character which we use to denote _dollars_, as aprefix to a number expressing money; for this character is a sort ofsymbol, that is, it represents a thing rather than a word. Ournumerals, too, 1, 2, 3, &c. , are in some respects of the character ofsymbols. That is, they stand directly for the numbers themselves, andnot for the sounds of the words by which the numbers are expressed. Hence, although the people of different European nations understandthem all alike, they read them, in words, very differently. TheEnglishman reads them by one set of words, the Spaniard by another, and the German and the Italian by others still. 

The symbolical mode of writing possesses some advantages which mustnot be overlooked. It speaks directly to the eye, and is more full ofmeaning than the Phonetic method, though the meaning is necessarilymore vague and indistinct, in some respects, while it is less so inothers. For example, in an advertising newspaper, the simple figure ofa house, or of a ship, or of a locomotive engine, at the head of anadvertisement, is a sort of hieroglyphic, which says much more plainlyand distinctly, and in much shorter time, than any combination ofletters could do, that what follows it is an advertisement relating toa house, or a vessel, or a railroad. In the same manner, the ancientrepresentations on monuments and columns would communicate, perhapsmore rapidly and readily to the passer-by, an idea of the battles, thesieges, the marches, and the other great exploits of the monarchswhose history they were intended to record, than an inscription inwords would have done. 

Another advantage of the symbolical representations as used in ancienttimes, was that their meaning could be more readily explained, andwould be more easily remembered, and so explained again, than writtenwords. To learn to read literal writing in any language, is a work ofvery great labor. It is, in fact, generally found that it must becommenced early in life, or it can not be accomplished at all. Aninscription, therefore, in words, on a Mexican monument, that acertain king suppressed an insurrection, and beheaded the governors offour of his provinces, would be wholly blind and unintelligible to themass of the population of such a country; and if the learned sculptorwho inscribed it, were to attempt to explain it to them, letter byletter, they would forget the beginning of the lesson before reachingthe end of it, --and could never be expected to attempt extending theknowledge by making known the interpretation which they had receivedto others in their turn. But the royal scepter, with the four headsbefore it, each of the heads accompanied by the appropriate symbol ofthe city to which the possessor of it belonged, formed a symbolicalcongeries which expressed its meaning at once, and very plainly, tothe eye. The most ignorant and uncultivated could readily understandit. Once understanding it, too, they could never easily forget it; andthey could, without any difficulty, explain it fully to others asignorant and uncultivated as themselves. 

It might seem, at first view, that a symbolical mode of writing mustbe more simple in its character than the system now in use, inasmuchas by that plan each idea or object would be expressed by onecharacter alone, whereas, by our mode of writing, several characters, sometimes as many as eight or ten, are required to express a word, which word, after all, represents only one single object or idea. Butnotwithstanding this apparent simplicity, the system of symbolicalwriting proved to be, when extensively employed, extremely complicatedand intricate. It is true that each idea required but one character, but the number of ideas and objects, and of words expressive of theirrelations to one another, is so vast, that the system of representingthem by independent symbols, soon lost itself in an endless intricacyof detail. Then, besides, --notwithstanding what has been said ofthe facility with which symbolical inscriptions could beinterpreted, --they were, after all, extremely difficult to beunderstood without interpretation. An inscription once explained, theexplanation was easily understood and remembered; but it was verydifficult to understand one intended to express any new communication. The system was, therefore, well adapted to commemorate what wasalready known, but was of little service as a mode of communicatingknowledge anew. 

[Illustration: SYMBOLICAL AND PHONETIC WRITING]

We come now to consider the second grand class of written characters, namely, the _phonetic_, the class which Cadmus introduced into Greece, and the one almost universally adopted among all the European nationsat the present day. It is called Phonetic, from a Greek word denoting_sound_, because the characters which are used do not denote directlythe thing itself which is signified, but the sounds made in speakingthe word which signifies it. Take, for instance, the two modes ofrepresenting a conflict between two contending armies, one by thesymbolic delineation of two swords crossed, and the other by thephonetic delineation of the letters of the word battle. They are bothinscriptions. The beginning of the first represents the handle of thesword, a part, as it were, of the thing signified. The beginning ofthe second, the letter _b_, represents the pressing of the lipstogether, by which we commence pronouncing the word. Thus the one modeis _symbolical_, and the other _phonetic_. 

On considering the two methods, as exemplified in this simpleinstance, we shall observe that what has already been pointed out ascharacteristic of the two modes is here seen to be true. The idea isconveyed in the symbolical mode by one character, while by thephonetic it requires no less than six. This seems at first view toindicate a great advantage possessed by the symbolical system. But onreflection this advantage is found entirely to disappear. For thesymbolical character, though it is only one, will answer for only thesingle idea which it denotes. Neither itself nor any of its elementswill aid us in forming a symbol for any other idea; and as the ideas, objects, and relations which it is necessary to be able to express, inorder to make free and full communications in any language, are fromfifty to a hundred thousand, --the step which we have taken, thoughvery simple in itself, is the beginning of a course which must lead tothe most endless intricacy and complication. Whereas in the sixphonetic characters of the word battle, we have elements which can beused again and again, in the expression of thousands of other ideas. In fact, as the phonetic characters which are found necessary in mostlanguages are only about twenty-four, we have in that single wordaccomplished one quarter of the whole task, so far as the delineationof characters is concerned, that is necessary for expressing bywriting any possible combination of ideas which human language canconvey. 

At what time and in what manner the transition was made among theancient nations from the symbolic to the phonetic mode of writing, isnot now known. When in the flourishing periods of the Grecian andRoman states, learned men explored the literary records of the variousnations of the East, writings were found in all, which were expressedin phonetic characters, and the alphabets of these characters werefound to be so analogous to each other, in the names and order, and insome respects in the forms, of the letters, as to indicate stronglysomething like community of origin. All the attempts, however, whichhave been made to ascertain the origin of the system, have whollyfailed, and no account of them goes farther back than to the time whenCadmus brought them from Phenicia or Egypt into Greece. 

The letters which Cadmus brought were in number sixteen. The followingtable presents a view of his alphabet, presenting in the severalcolumns, the letters themselves as subsequently written in Greece, theGreek names given to them, and their power as represented by theletters now in use. The forms, it will be seen, have been but littlechanged. 

 Greek letters. Greek names. English representatives. 

 Α Alpha A B Beta B Γ Gamma G Δ Delta D Ε Epsilon E Ι Iota I Κ Kappa K Λ Lamda L Μ Mu M Ν Nu N Ο Omicron O Π Pi P Ρ Rho R Σ Sigma S Τ Tau T Υ Upsilon U

The phonetic alphabet of Cadmus, though so vastly superior to anysystem of symbolical hieroglyphics, for all purposes where any thinglike verbal accuracy was desired, was still very slow in coming intogeneral use. It was of course, at first, very difficult to write it, and very difficult to read it when written. There was a very greatpractical obstacle, too, in the way of its general introduction, inthe want of any suitable materials for writing. To cut letters with achisel and a mallet upon a surface of marble is a very slow andtoilsome process. To diminish this labor the ancients contrived tablesof brass, copper, lead, and sometimes of wood, and cut theinscriptions upon them by the use of various tools and implements. Still it is obvious, that by such methods as these the art of writingcould only be used to an extremely limited extent, such as for briefinscriptions in registers and upon monuments, where a very few wordswould express all that it was necessary to record. 

In process of time, however, the plan of _painting_ the letters bymeans of a black dye upon a smooth surface, was introduced. Thesurface employed to receive these inscriptions was, at first, the skinof some animal prepared for this purpose, and the dye used for ink, was a colored liquid obtained from a certain fish. This method ofwriting, though in some respects more convenient than the others, wasstill slow, and the materials were expensive; and it was a long timebefore the new art was employed for any thing like continuouscomposition. Cadmus is supposed to have come into Greece about theyear 1550 before Christ; and it was not until about 650 beforeChrist, --that is, nearly nine hundred years later, that the art ofwriting was resorted to in Greece to record laws. 

The evidences that writing was very little used in any way during thislong period of nine hundred years, are furnished in various allusionscontained in poems and narratives that were composed during thosetimes, and committed to writing afterward. In the poems of Homer, forinstance, there is no allusion, from the beginning to the end, to anymonument or tomb containing any inscription whatever; although manyoccasions occur in which such inscriptions would have been made, ifthe events described were real, and the art of writing had beengenerally known, or would have been imagined to be made, if thenarratives were invented. In one case a ship-master takes a cargo onboard, and he is represented as having to remember all the articles, instead of making a record of them. Another case still more strikingis adduced. In the course of the contest around the walls of Troy, theGrecian leaders are described at one time as drawing lots to determinewhich of them should fight a certain Trojan champion. The lots wereprepared, being made of some substance that could be marked, and whenready, were distributed to the several leaders. Each one of theleaders then marked his lot in some way, taking care to remember whatcharacter he had made upon it. The lots were then all put into ahelmet, and the helmet was given to a herald, who was to shake itabout in such a manner, if possible, as to throw out one of the lotsand leave the others in. The leader whose lot it was that should bethus shaken out, was to be considered as the one designated by thedecision, to fight the Trojan champion. 

Now, in executing this plan, the herald, when he had shaken out a lot, and had taken it up from the ground, is represented, in the narrative, as not knowing whose it was, and as carrying it around, accordingly, to all the different leaders, to find the one who could recognize itas his own. A certain chief named Ajax recognized it, and in this wayhe was designated for the combat. Now it is supposed, that if thesemen had been able to write, that they would have inscribed their ownnames upon the lots, instead of marking them with unmeaningcharacters. And even if they were not practiced writers themselvessome secretary or scribe would have been called upon to act for themon such an occasion as this, if the art of writing had been at thattime so generally known as to be customarily employed on publicoccasions. From these and similar indications which are found, on acareful examination, in the Homeric poems, learned men have concludedthat they were composed and repeated orally, at a period of the worldwhen the art of writing was very little known, and that they werehanded down from generation to generation, through the memory of thosewho repeated them, until at last the art of writing became establishedamong mankind, when they were at length put permanently upon record. 

It seems that writing was not much employed for any of the ordinaryand private purposes of life by the people of Greece until the articlecalled _papyrus_ was introduced among them. This took place about theyear 600 before Christ, when laws began first to be written. Papyrus, like the art of writing upon it, came originally from Egypt. It wasobtained from a tree which it seems grew only in that country. Thetree flourished in the low lands along the margin of the Nile. Itgrew to the height of about ten feet. The paper obtained from it wasformed from a sort of inner bark, which consisted of thin sheets orpellicles growing around the wood. The paper was manufactured in thefollowing manner. A sheet of the thin bark as taken from the tree, waslaid flat upon a board, and then a cross layer was laid over it, thematerials having been previously moistened with water made slightlyglutinous. The sheet thus formed was pressed and dried in the sun. Theplacing of two layers of the bark in this manner across each other wasintended to strengthen the texture of the sheet, for the fibers, itwas found, were very easily separated and torn so long as they laywholly in one direction. The sheet when dry was finished by smoothingthe surface, and prepared to receive inscriptions made by means of apen fashioned from a reed or a quill. 

In forming the papyrus into books it was customary to use a long sheetor web of it, and roll it upon a stick, as is the custom in respect tomaps at the present day. The writing was in columns, each of whichformed a sort of page, the reader holding the ends of the roll in histwo hands, and reading at the part which was open between them. Ofcourse, as he advanced, he continually unrolled on one side, androlled up upon the other. Rolls of parchment were often made in thesame manner. 

The term _volume_ used in respect to modern books, had its origin inthis ancient practice of writing upon long rolls. The modern practiceis certainly much to be preferred, though the ancient one was far lessinconvenient than might at first be supposed. The long sheet wasrolled upon a wooden billet, which gave to the volume a certainfirmness and solidity, and afforded it great protection. The ends ofthis roller projected beyond the edges of the sheet, and wereterminated in knobs or bosses, which guarded in some measure the edgesof the papyrus or of the parchment. The whole volume was also inclosedin a parchment case, on the outside of which the title of the work wasconspicuously recorded. Many of these ancient rolls have been found atHerculaneum. 

For ink, various colored liquids were used, generally black, butsometimes red and sometimes green. The black ink was sometimesmanufactured from a species of lampblack or ivory black, such as isoften used in modern times for painting. Some specimens of theinkstands which were used in ancient times have been found atHerculaneum, and one of them contained ink, which though too thick toflow readily from the pen, it was still possible to write with. It wasof about the consistence of oil. 

These rolls of papyrus and parchment, however, were only used forimportant writings which it was intended permanently to preserve. Forordinary occasions tablets of wax and other similar materials wereused, upon which the writer traced the characters with the point of asteel instrument called a _style_. The head of the style was smoothand rounded, so that any words which the writer wished to erase mightbe obliterated by smoothing over again, with it, the wax on which theyhad been written. 

Such is a brief history of the rise and progress of the art of writingin the States of Greece. Whether the phonetic principle which Cadmusintroduced was brought originally from Egypt, or from the countries onthe eastern shore of the Mediterranean sea, can not now beascertained. It has generally been supposed among mankind, at leastuntil within a recent period, that the art of phonetic writing didnot originate in Egypt, for the inscriptions on all the ancientmonuments in that country are of such a character that it has alwaysbeen supposed that they were symbolical characters altogether, andthat no traces of any phonetic writing existed in that land. Withinthe present century, however, the discovery has been made that a largeportion of these hieroglyphics are phonetic in their character; andthat the learned world in attempting for so many centuries, in vain, to affix symbolical meanings to them, had been altogether upon thewrong track. The delineations, though they consist almost wholly ofthe forms of plants and animals, and of other natural and artificialobjects, are not symbolical representations of ideas, but letters, representing sounds and words. They are thus precisely similar, inprinciple, to the letters of Cadmus, though wholly different from themin form. 

[Illustration: SPECIMEN OF EGYPTIAN HIEROGLYPHICS. ]

To enable the reader to obtain a clearer idea of the nature of thisdiscovery, we give on the adjoining page some specimens of Egyptianinscriptions found in various parts of the country, and which areinterpreted to express the name Cleopatra, a very common name forprincesses of the royal line in Egypt during the dynasty of thePtolemy's. We mark the various figures forming the inscription, withthe letters which modern interpreters have assigned to them. It willbe seen that they all spell, rudely indeed, but yet tolerablydistinctly, the name CLEOPATRA. 

By a careful examination of these specimens, it will be seen that theorder of placing the letters, if such hieroglyphical characters can beso called, is not regular, and the letter _a_, which is denoted by abird in some of the specimens, is represented differently in others. There are also two characters at the close of each inscription whichare not represented by any letter, the one being of the form of anegg, and the other a semicircle. These last are supposed to denote thesex of the sovereign whose name they are connected with, as they arefound in many cases in inscriptions commemorative of princesses andqueens. They are accordingly specimens of _symbolic_ characters, whileall the others in the name are phonetic. 

It seems therefore not improbable that the principle of forming awritten language by means of characters representing the sounds ofwhich the words of the spoken language are composed, was of Egyptianorigin; and that it was carried in very early times to the countrieson the eastern shore of the Mediterranean sea, and there improved uponby the adoption of a class of characters more simple than thehieroglyphics of Egypt, and of a form more convenient for a regularlinear arrangement in writing. Moses, who spent his early life inEgypt, and who was said to be learned in all the wisdom of theEgyptians, may have acquired the art of writing there. 

However this may be, and whatever may be the uncertainty which hangsover the early history of this art, one thing is certain, and that is, that the discovery of the art of writing, including that of printing, which is only the consummation and perfection of it, --the art by whichman can record language, and give life and power to the record tospeak to the eye permanently and forever--to go to every nation--toaddress itself simultaneously to millions of minds, and to endurethrough all time, is by far the greatest discovery, in respect to theenlargement which it makes of human powers, that has ever been made. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE STORY OF ÆNEAS. 

B. C. 1200

Story of Æneas remained long unwritten. --Mother of Æneas. --Herorigin. --Early history of Venus. --Her magical powers. --Her childrenEros and Anteros. --She goes to Olympus. --Aphrodite's love forAnchises. --The golden apple. --The award of Paris. --Venus's residenceat Mt. Ida. --Aphrodite's assumed character. --She leavesAnchises. --Childhood of Æneas. --The Trojan war. --Achilles. --Æneasengages in the war. --Story of Pandarus. --Æneas rescued by hismother. --Her magic vail. --Venus is wounded. --Iris conveys heraway. --Single combat between Æneas and Achilles. --The charmed lifeof Achilles. --His shield. --The meeting of Æneas and Achilles on thefield. --The harangues of the combatants. --The battle begun. --Narrowescape. --Sudden termination of the combat. --The tales of the Æneid. 

Besides the intrinsic interest and importance of the facts stated inthe last chapter, to the student of history, there was a specialreason for calling the attention of the reader to them here, that hemight know in what light the story of the destruction of Troy, and ofthe wanderings of Æneas, the great ancestor of Romulus, which we nowproceed to relate, is properly to be regarded. The events connectedwith the destruction of Troy took place, if they ever occurred at all, about the year _twelve hundred_ before Christ. Homer is supposed tohave lived and composed his poems about the year nine hundred; and theart of writing is thought to have been first employed for the purposeof recording continuous compositions, about the year six hundred. Thestory of Æneas then, so far as it has any claims to historical truth, is a tale which was handed down by oral tradition, among story-tellersfor three hundred years, and then was clothed in verse, and handeddown in that form orally by the memory of the reciters of it, ingenerations successive for three hundred years more, before it wasrecorded; and during the whole period of this transmission, theinterest felt in it was not the desire for ascertaining andcommunicating historic truth, but simply for entertaining companies oflisteners with the details of a romantic story. The story, therefore, can not be relied upon as historically true; but it is no lessimportant on that account, that all well-informed persons should knowwhat it is. 

The mother of Æneas (as the story goes), was a celebrated goddess. Hername was Aphrodite;[B] though among the Romans she afterward receivedthe name of Venus. Aphrodite was not born of a mother, like ordinarymortals, but sprang mysteriously and supernaturally from a foam whichgathered on a certain occasion upon the surface of the sea. At thecommencement of her existence she crept out upon the shores of anisland that was near, --the island of Cythera, --which lies south of thePeloponnesus. 

[Footnote B: Pronounced in four syllables, Aph-ro-di-te. ]

[Illustration: ORIGIN OF VENUS. ]

She was the goddess of love, of beauty, and of fruitfulness; and soextraordinary were the magical powers which were inherent from thebeginning, in her very nature, that as she walked along upon the sandsof the shore, when she first emerged from the sea, plants and flowersof the richest verdure and beauty sprang up at her feet wherever shestepped. She was, besides, in her own person, inexpressibly beautiful;and in addition to the natural influence of her charms, she was enduedwith the supernatural power of inspiring the sentiment of love in allwho beheld her. 

From Cythera the goddess made her way over by sea to Cyprus, where sheremained for some time, amid the gorgeous and magnificent scenery ofthat enchanting island. Here she had two children, beautiful boys. Their names were Eros and Anteros. Each of these children remainedperpetually a child, and Eros, in later times called Cupid, became thegod of "love bestowed, " while Anteros was the God of "love returned. "After this the mother and the boys roamed about the world, --now in theheavenly regions above, and now among mortals on the plains and in thevalleys below: they sometimes appeared openly, in their true forms, sometimes they assumed disguises, and sometimes they were whollyinvisible; but whether seen or unseen, they were always busy inperforming their functions--the mother inspiring everywhere, in theminds both of gods and men, the tenderest sentiments of beauty anddesire, --while Eros awakened love in the heart of one person foranother, and Anteros made it his duty to tease and punish those whothus became objects of affection, if they did not return the love. 

After some time, Aphrodite and her boys found their way to theheavenly regions of Mount Olympus, where the great divinitiesresided, [C] and there they soon produced great trouble, by enkindlingthe flames of love in the hearts of the divinities themselves, causingthem, by her magic power, to fall in love not only with one another, but also with mortal men and women on the earth below. In retaliationupon Aphrodite for this mischief, Jupiter, by his supreme power, inspired Aphrodite herself with a sentiment of love. The object of heraffection was Anchises, a handsome youth, of the royal family of Troy, who lived among the mountains of Ida, not far from the city. 

[Footnote C: See Map, page 61. ]

The way in which it happened that the affection of Aphrodite turnedtoward an inhabitant of Mount Ida was this. There had been at one timea marriage among the divinities, and a certain goddess who had notbeen invited to the wedding, conceived the design of avenging herselffor the neglect, by provoking a quarrel among those who were there. She, accordingly, caused a beautiful golden apple to be made, with aninscription marked upon it, "FOR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL. " This apple shethrew in among the guests assembled at the wedding. The goddesses allclaimed the prize, and a very earnest dispute arose among them inrespect to it. Jupiter sent the several claimants, under the chargeof a special messenger, to Mount Ida, to a handsome and accomplishedyoung shepherd there, named Paris--who was, in fact, a prince indisguise--that they might exhibit themselves to him, and submit thequestion of the right to the apple to his award. The contendinggoddesses appeared accordingly before Paris, and each attempted tobribe him to decide in her favor, by offering him some peculiar andtempting reward. Paris gave the apple to Aphrodite, and she was sopleased with the result, that she took Paris under her specialprotection, and made the solitudes of Mount Ida one of her favoriteretreats. 

Here she saw and became acquainted with Anchises, who was, as hasalready been said, a noble, or prince, by descent, though he had forsome time been dwelling away from the city, and among the mountains, rearing flocks and herds. Here Aphrodite saw him, and when Jupiterinspired her with a sudden susceptibility to the power of love, theshepherd Anchises was the object toward which her affections turned. She accordingly went to Mount Ida, and giving herself up to him, shelived with him for some time among the mountains as his bride. Æneaswas their son. 

Aphrodite did not, however, appear to Anchises in her true character, but assumed, instead, the form and the disguise of a Phrygianprincess. Phrygia was a kingdom of Asia Minor, not very far from Troy. She continued this disguise as long as she remained with Anchises atMount Ida; at length, however, she concluded to leave him, and toreturn to Olympus, and at her parting she made herself known. She, however, charged Anchises never to reveal to any person who she was, declaring that Æneas, whom she was going to leave with his father whenshe went away, would be destroyed by a stroke of lightning fromheaven, if the real truth in respect to his mother were ever revealed. 

When Aphrodite had gone, Anchises, having now no longer any one athome to attend to the rearing of the child, send him to Dardanus, acity to the northward of Troy, where he was brought up in the house ofhis sister, the daughter of Anchises, who was married and settledthere. His having a sister old enough to be married, would seem toshow that youth was not one of the attractions of Anchises inAphrodite's eyes. Æneas remained with his sister until he was oldenough to be of service in the care of flocks and herds, and thenreturned again to his former residence among the pasturages of themountains. His mother, though she had left him, did not forget herchild; but watched over him continually, and interposed directly toaid or to protect him, whenever her aid was required by the occurrenceof any emergency of difficulty or danger. 

[Illustration: ÆNEAS DEFENDING THE BODY OF PANDARUS. ]

At length the Trojan war broke out. For a time, however, Æneas took nopart in it. He was jealous of the attentions which Priam, the king ofTroy, paid to other young men, and fancied that he himself wasoverlooked and that the services that he might render wereundervalued. He remained, therefore, at his home among the mountains, occupying himself with his flocks and herds; and he might, perhaps, have continued in these peaceful avocations to the end of the war, hadit not been that Achilles, one of the most formidable of the Grecianleaders, in one of his forays in the country around Troy, in search ofprovisions, came upon Æneas's territory, and attacked him whiletending his flocks upon the mountain side. Achilles seized theflocks and herds, and drove Æneas and his fellow-herdsmen away. Theywould, in fact, all have been killed, had not Aphrodite interposed toprotect her son and save his life. 

The loss of his flocks and herds, and the injury which he himself hadreceived, aroused Æneas's indignation and anger against the Greeks. Heimmediately raised an armed force of Dardanians, and thenceforth tookan active part in the war. He became one of the most distinguishedamong the combatants, for his prowess and his bravery; and beingalways assisted by his mother in his conflicts, and rescued by herwhen in danger, he performed prodigies of strength and valor. 

At one time he pressed forward into the thickest of the battle torescue a Trojan leader named Pandarus, who was beset by his foes andbrought into very imminent danger. Æneas did not succeed in saving hisfriend. Pandarus was killed. Æneas, however, flew to the spot, and bymeans of the most extraordinary feats of strength and valor he drovethe Greeks away from the body. They attacked it on every side, butÆneas, wheeling around it, and fighting now on this side and now onthat, drove them all away. They retired to a little distance and thenbegan to throw in a shower of spears and darts and arrows upon him. Æneas defended himself and the body of his friend from these missilesfor a time, with his shield. At length, however, he was struck in thethigh with a ponderous stone which one of the Greek warriors hurled athim, --a stone so heavy that two men of ordinary strength would havebeen required to lift it. Æneas was felled to the ground by the blow. He sank down, resting upon his arm, faint and dizzy, and being thusmade helpless would have immediately been overpowered and killed byhis assailants had not his mother interposed. She came immediately torescue him. She spread her vail over him, which had the magic power ofrendering harmless all blows which were aimed at what was covered byit, and then taking him up in her arms she bore him off through themidst of his enemies unharmed. The swords, spears, and javelins whichwere aimed at him were rendered powerless by the magic vail. 

Aphrodite, however, flying thus with her wounded son, mother-like, left herself exposed in her anxiety to protect him. Diomedes, thechief of the pursuers, following headlong on, aimed a lance at Venusherself. The lance struck Venus in the hand, and inflicted a verysevere and painful wound. It did not, however, stop her flight. Shepressed swiftly on, while Diomedes, satisfied with his revenge, gaveup the pursuit, but called out to Aphrodite as she disappeared fromview, bidding her learn from the lesson which he had given her that itwould be best for her thenceforth to remain in her own appropriatesphere, and not come down to the earth and interfere in the contestsof mortal men. 

Aphrodite, after conveying Æneas to a place of safety, fled, herself, faint and bleeding, to the mountains, where, after ascending to theregion of mists and clouds, Iris, the beautiful goddess of therainbow, came to her aid. Iris found her faint and pale from the lossof blood; she did all in her power to soothe and comfort the woundedgoddess, and then led her farther still among the mountains to a placewhere they found Mars, the god of war, standing with his chariot. Marswas Aphrodite's brother. He took compassion upon his sister in herdistress, and lent Iris his chariot and horses, to convey Aphroditehome. Aphrodite ascended into the chariot, and Iris took the reins;and thus they rode through the air to the mountains of Olympus. Herethe gods and goddesses of heaven gathered around their unhappy sister, bound up her wound, and expressed great sympathy for her in hersufferings, uttering at the same time many piteous complaints againstthe merciless violence and inhumanity of men. Such is the ancient taleof Æneas and his mother. 

At a later period in the history of the war, Æneas had a grand combatwith Achilles, who was the most terrible of all the Grecian warriors, and was regarded as the grand champion of their cause. The two armieswere drawn up in battle array. A vast open space was left between themon the open plain. Into this space the two combatants advanced, Æneason the one side and Achilles on the other, in full view of all thetroops, and of the throngs of spectators assembled to witness theproceedings. 

A very strong and an universal interest was felt in the approachingcombat. Æneas, besides the prodigious strength and bravery for whichhe was renowned, was to be divinely aided, it was known, by theprotection of his mother, who was always at hand to guide and supporthim in the conflict, and to succor him in danger. Achilles, on theother hand, possessed a charmed life. He had been dipped by his motherThetis, when an infant, in the river Styx, to render him invulnerableand immortal; and the immersion produced the effect intended inrespect to all those parts of the body which the water laved. As, however, Thetis held the child by the ankles when she plunged him in, theankles remained unaffected by the magic influence of the water. Allthe other parts of the body were rendered incapable of receiving awound. 

Achilles had a very beautiful and costly shield which his mother hadcaused to be made for him. It was formed of five plates of metal. Theoutermost plates on each side were of brass; in the centre was a plateof gold; and between the central plate of gold and the outer ones ofbrass were two other plates, one on each side, made of some thirdmetal. The workmanship of this shield was of the most elaborate andbeautiful character. The mother of Achilles had given this weapon toher son when he left home to join the Greeks in the Trojan war, nottrusting entirely it seems to his magical invulnerability. 

The armies looked on with great interest as these two championsadvanced to meet each other, while all the gods and goddesses surveyedthe scene with almost equal interest, from their abodes above. Somejoined Venus in the sympathy which she felt for her son, while othersespoused the cause of Achilles. When the two combatants had approachedeach other, they paused before commencing the conflict, as is usual insuch cases, and surveyed each other with looks of anger and defiance. At length Achilles spoke. He began to upbraid Æneas for hisinfatuation and folly in engaging in the war, and especially forcoming forward to put his life at hazard by encountering such achampion as was now before him. "What can you gain, " said he, "even ifyou conquer in this warfare? You can never be king, even if yousucceed in saving the city. I know you claim to be descended from theroyal line; but Priam has sons who are the direct and immediate heirs, and your claims can never be allowed. Then, besides, what folly toattempt to contend with me! Me, the strongest, bravest, and mostterrible of the Greeks, and the special favorite of many deities. "With this introduction Achilles went on to set forth the greatness ofhis pedigree, and the loftiness of his pretensions to superiority overall others in personal prowess and valor, in a manner very eloquentindeed, and in a style which it seems was very much admired in thosedays as evincing only a proper spirit and energy, --though in our timessuch a harangue would be very apt to be regarded as only avainglorious and empty boasting. 

Æneas replied, --retorting with vauntings on his side no less spiritedand energetic than those which Achilles had expressed. He gave a longaccount of his pedigree, and of his various claims to loftyconsideration. He, however, said, in conclusion, that it was idle anduseless for them to waste their time in such a war of words, and so hehurled his spear at Achilles with all his force, as a token of thecommencement of the battle. 

The spear struck the shield of Achilles, and impinged upon it withsuch force that it penetrated through two of the plates of metal whichcomposed the shield, and reached the central plate of gold, where theforce with which it had been thrown being spent, it was arrested andfell to the ground. Achilles then exerting his utmost strength threwhis spear in return. Æneas crouched down to avoid the shock of theweapon, holding his shield at the same time above his head, andbracing himself with all his force against the approaching concussion. The spear struck the shield near the upper edge of it, as it was heldin Æneas's hands. It passed directly through the plates of which theshield was composed, and then continuing its course, it glided downjust over Æneas's back, and planted itself deep in the ground behindhim, and stood there quivering. Æneas crept out from beneath it with alook of horror. 

Immediately after throwing his spear, and perceiving that it hadfailed of its intended effect, Achilles drew his sword and rushedforward to engage Æneas, hand to hand. Æneas himself recovering in aninstant from the consternation which his narrow escape from impalementhad awakened, seized an enormous stone, heavier, as Homer representsit, than any two ordinary men could lift, and was about to hurl it athis advancing foe, when suddenly the whole combat was terminated by avery unexpected interposition. It seems that the various gods andgoddesses, from their celestial abodes among the summits of Olympus, had assembled in invisible forms to witness this combat--somesympathizing with and upholding one of the combatants, and some theother. Neptune was on Æneas's side; and accordingly when he saw howimminent the danger was which threatened Æneas, when Achilles camerushing upon him with his uplifted sword, he at once resolved tointerfere. He immediately rushed, himself, between the combatants. Hebrought a sudden and supernatural mist over the scene, such as the Godof the Sea has always at his command; and this mist at once concealedÆneas from Achilles's view. Neptune drew the spear out of the ground, and released it too from the shield which remained still pinned downby it; and then threw the spear down at Achilles's feet. He nextseized Æneas, and lifting him high above the ground he bore him awayin an invisible form over the heads of soldiers and horsemen that hadbeen drawn up in long lines around the field of combat. When the mistpassed away Achilles saw his spear lying at his feet, and on lookingaround him found that his enemy was gone. 

Such are the marvelous tales which were told by the ancient narrators, of the prowess and exploits of Æneas under the walls of Troy, and ofthe interpositions which were put forth to save him in moments ofdesperate danger, by beings supernatural and divine. These tales werein those days believed as sober history. That which was marvelous andphilosophically incredible in them, was sacredly sheltered fromquestion by mingling itself with the prevailing principles ofreligious faith. The tales were thus believed, and handed downtraditionally from generation to generation, and admired and loved byall who heard and repeated them, partly on account of their romanticand poetical beauty, and partly on account of the sublime and sacredrevelations which they contained, in respect to the divinities of thespiritual world. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF TROY. 

B. C. 1200

Termination of the siege of Troy. --Appearances observed by thebesieged. --The wooden horse. --Its probable size. --Various opinionsin respect to the disposal of it. --Sudden appearance of acaptive. --His wretched condition. --Sinon's account of the departureof the Greeks. --His story of the proposed sacrifice. --Hisescape. --Priam's address to him. --Sinon's account of the horse. --Effectproduced by Sinon's story. --The serpents and Laocoon. --Ancient statueof Laocoon. --Its history. --The statue now deposited in theVatican. --Description of it. --Effect produced upon the Trojans byLaocoon's fate. --The Trojans draw the horse into the city. --The Greeksadmitted to the city. --Æneas awakened by the din. --His meeting withPantheus. --His surprise and terror. --Adventures of Æneas andPantheus. --The tortoise. --The position of Æneas. --The tower. --Thesacking of the palace. --Priam. --Priam and Hecuba at the altar. --Thedeath of Priam. --The despair of the Trojans. 

After the final conquest and destruction of Troy, Æneas, in the courseof his wanderings, stopped, it was said, at Carthage, on his way toItaly, and there, according to ancient story, he gave the followingaccount of the circumstances attending the capture and the sacking ofthe city, and his own escape from the scene. 

One day, after the war had been continued with various success for along period of time, the sentinels on the walls and towers of the citybegan to observe extraordinary movements in the camp of the besiegers, which seemed to indicate preparations for breaking up the camp andgoing away. Tents were struck. Men were busy passing to and fro, arranging arms and military stores, as if for transportation. A fleetof ships was drawn up along the shore, which was not far distant, anda great scene of activity manifested itself upon the bank, indicatingan approaching embarkation. In a word, the tidings soon spreadthroughout the city, that the Greeks had at length become weary of theprotracted contest, and were making preparations to withdraw from thefield. These proceedings were watched, of course, with great interestfrom the walls of the city, and at length the inhabitants, to theirinexpressible joy, found their anticipations and hopes, as theythought, fully realized. The camp of the Greeks was gradually brokenup, and at last entirely abandoned. The various bodies of troops weredrawn off one by one to the shore, where they were embarked on boardthe ships, and then sailed away. As soon as this result was made sure, the Trojans threw open the gates of the city, and came out inthrongs, --soldiers and citizens, men, women and children together, --toexplore the abandoned encampment, and to rejoice over the departure oftheir terrible enemies. 

The first thing which attracted their attention was an immense woodenhorse, which stood upon the ground that the Greek encampment hadoccupied. The Trojans immediately gathered, one and all, around themonster, full of wonder and curiosity. Æneas, in narrating the story, says that the image was as large as a mountain; but, as he afterwardrelates that the people drew it on wheels within the walls of thecity, and especially as he represents them as attaching the ropes forthis purpose to the _neck_ of the image, instead of to its fore-legs, which would have furnished the only proper points of attachment if theeffigy had been of any very extraordinary size, he must have had avery small mountain in mind in making the comparison. Or, which isperhaps more probable, he used the term only in a vague metaphoricalsense, as we do now when we speak of the waves of the ocean as runningmountain high, when it is well ascertained that the crests of thebillows, even in the most violent and most protracted storms, neverrise more than twenty feet above the general level. 

At all events, the image was large enough to excite the wonder of allthe beholders. The Trojan people gathered around it, wholly unable tounderstand for what purpose the Greeks could have constructed such amonster, to leave behind them on their departure from Troy. After thefirst emotions of astonishment and wonder which the spectacle awakenedhad somewhat subsided, there followed a consultation in respect tothe disposal which was to be made of the prodigy. The opinions on thispoint were very various. One commander was disposed to consider theimage a sacred prize, and recommended that they should convey it intothe city, and deposit it in the citadel, as a trophy of victory. Another, dissenting decidedly from this counsel, said that he stronglysuspected some latent treachery, and he proposed to build a fire underthe body of the monster, and burn the image itself and allcontrivances for mischief which might be contained in it, together. Athird recommended that they should hew it open, and see for themselveswhat there might be within. One of the Trojan leaders named Laocoon, who, just at this juncture, came to the spot, remonstrated loudly andearnestly against having any thing to do with so mysterious andsuspicious a prize, and, by way of expressing the strong animositywhich he felt toward it, he hurled his spear with all his forceagainst the monster's side. The spear stood trembling in the wood, producing a deep hollow sound by the concussion. 

What the decision would have been in respect to the disposal of thehorse, if this consultation and debate had gone on, it is impossibleto say, as the farther consideration of the subject was all at onceinterrupted, by new occurrences which here suddenly intervened, andwhich, after engrossing for a time the whole attention of the companyassembled, finally controlled the decision of the question. A crowd ofpeasants and shepherds were seen coming from the mountains, with muchexcitement, and loud shouts and outcries, bringing with them a captiveGreek whom they had secured and bound. As the peasants came up withtheir prisoner, the Trojans gathered eagerly round them, full ofexcitement and threats of violence, all thirsting, apparently, fortheir victim's blood. He, on his part, filled the air with the mostpiteous lamentations and cries for mercy. 

His distress and wretchedness, and the earnest entreaties which heuttered, seemed at length to soften the hearts of his enemies andfinally, the violence of the crowd around the captive became somewhatappeased, and was succeeded by a disposition to question him, and hearwhat he had to say. The Greek told them, in answer to theirinterrogations, that his name was Sinon, and that he was a fugitivefrom his own countrymen the Greeks, who had been intending to killhim. He said that the Greek leaders had long been desirous ofabandoning the siege of Troy, and that they had made many attempts toembark their troops and sail away, but that the winds and seas hadrisen against them on every such attempt, and defeated their design. They then sent to consult the oracle of Apollo, to learn what was thecause of the displeasure and hostility thus manifested against them bythe god of the sea. The oracle replied, that they could not departfrom Troy, till they had first made an atoning and propitiatoryoffering by the sacrifice of a man, such an one as Apollo himselfmight designate. When this answer was returned, the whole army, asSinon said, was thrown into a state of consternation. No one knew butthat the fatal designation might fall on him. The leaders were, however, earnestly determined on carrying the measure into effect. Ulysses called upon Calchas, the priest of Apollo, to point out theman who was to die. Calchas waited day after day, for ten days, beforethe divine intimation was made to him in respect to the individualwho was to suffer. At length he said that Sinon was the destinedvictim. His comrades, Sinon said, rejoicing in their own escape fromso terrible a doom, eagerly assented to the priest's decision, andimmediately made preparations for the ceremony. The altar was reared. The victim was adorned for the sacrifice, and the garlands, accordingto the accustomed usage, were bound upon his temples. He contrived, however, he said, at the last moment, to make his escape. He broke thebands with which he had been bound, and fled into a morass near theshore, where he remained concealed in inaccessible thickets until theGreeks had sailed away. He then came forth and was at length seizedand bound by the shepherds of the mountains, who found him wanderingabout, in extreme destitution and misery. Sinon concluded his tale bythe most piteous lamentations, on his wretched lot. The Trojans, hesupposed, would kill him, and the Greeks, on their return to hisnative land, in their anger against him for having made his escapefrom them, would destroy his wife and children. 

The air and manner with which Sinon told this story seemed sosincere, and so natural and unaffected were the expressions ofwretchedness and despair with which he ended his narrative, that theTrojan leaders had no suspicion that it was not true. Their compassionwas moved for the wretched fugitive, and they determined to spare hislife. Priam, the aged king, who was present at the scene, in the midstof the Trojan generals, ordered the cords with which the peasants hadbound the captive to be sundered, that he might stand before themfree. The king spoke to him, too, in a kind and encouraging manner. "Forget your countrymen, " said he. "They are gone. Henceforth youshall be one of us. We will take care of you. And now, " hecontinued, "tell us what this monstrous image means. Why did theGreeks make it, and why have they left it here?"

Sinon, as if grateful for the generosity with which his life had beenspared, professed himself ready to give his benefactors the fullestinformation. He told them that the wooden horse had been built by theGreeks to replace a certain image of Pallas which they had previouslytaken and borne away from Troy. It was to replace this image, Sinonsaid, that the Greeks had built the wooden horse; and their purposein making the image of this monstrous size was to prevent thepossibility of the Trojans taking it into the city, and thusappropriating to themselves the benefit of its protecting efficacy andvirtue. 

The Trojans listened with breathless interest to all that Sinon said, and readily believed his story; so admirably well did he counterfeit, by his words and his demeanor, all the marks and tokens of honestsincerity in what he said of others, as well of grief and despair inrespect to his own unhappy lot. The current of opinion which had begunbefore to set strongly in favor of destroying the horse, was whollyturned, and all began at once to look upon the colossal image as anobject of sacred veneration, and to begin to form plans fortransporting it within the limits of the city. Whatever remainingdoubts any of them might have felt on the subject were dispelled bythe occurrence of a most extraordinary phenomenon just at this stageof the affair, which was understood by all to be a divine judgmentupon Laocoon for his sacriligious temerity in striking his spear intothe horse's side. It had been determined to offer a sacrifice toNeptune. Lots were drawn to determine who should perform the rite. Thelot fell upon Laocoon. He began to make preparations to perform theduty, assisted by his two young sons, when suddenly two immenseserpents appeared, coming up from the sea. They came swimming over thesurface of the water, with their heads elevated above the waves, untilthey reached the shore, and then gliding swiftly along, they advancedacross the plain, their bodies brilliantly spotted and glittering inthe sun, their eyes flashing, and their forked and venomous tonguesdarting threats and defiance as they came. The people fled in dismay. The serpents, disregarding all others, made their way directly towardthe affrighted children of Laocoon, and twining around them they soonheld the writhing and struggling limbs of their shrieking victimshopelessly entangled in their deadly convolutions. 

Laocoon, who was himself at a little distance from the spot, when theserpents came, as soon as he saw the danger and heard the agonizingcries of his boys, seized a weapon and ran to rescue them. Instead, however, of being able to save his children, he only involved himselfin their dreadful fate. The serpents seized him as soon as he camewithin their reach, and taking two turns around his neck and twoaround his body, and binding in a remorseless grip the forms of thefainting and dying boys with other convolutions, they raised theirheads high above the group of victims which they thus enfolded, andhissed and darted out their forked tongues in token of defiance andvictory. When at length their work was done, they glided away and tookrefuge in a temple that was near, and coiled themselves up for reposebeneath the feet of the statue of a goddess that stood in the shrine. 

The story of Laocoon has become celebrated among all mankind in moderntimes by means of a statue representing the catastrophe, which wasfound two or three centuries ago among the ruins of an ancient edificeat Rome. This statue was mentioned by an old Roman writer, Pliny, whogave an account of it while it yet stood in its place in the ancientcity. He said that it was the work of three artists, a father and twosons, who combined their industry and skill to carve in one group, andwith immense labor and care, the representation of Laocoon himself, the two boys, and the two serpents, making five living beingsintertwined intricately together, and all carved from one single blockof marble. On the decline and fall of Rome this statue was lost amongthe ruins of the city, and for many centuries it was known to mankindonly through the description of Pliny. At length it was brought tolight again, having been discovered about three centuries ago, underthe ruins of the very edifice in which Pliny had described it asstanding. It immediately became the object of great interest andattention to the whole world. It was deposited in the Vatican; a greatreward was paid to the owner of the ground on which it was discovered;drawings and casts of it, without number, have been made; and theoriginal stands in the Vatican now, an object of universal interest, as one of the most celebrated sculptures of ancient or modern times. 

Laocoon himself forms the center of the group, with the serpentstwined around him, while he struggles, with a fearful expression ofterror and anguish in his countenance, in the vain attempt to releasehimself from their hold. One of the serpents has bitten one of theboys in the side, and the wounded child sinks under the effects ofthe poison. The other boy, in an agony of terror, is struggling, hopelessly, to release his foot from the convolutions with which oneof the serpents has encircled it. The expression of the whole group isexciting and painful, and yet notwithstanding this, there is combinedwith it a certain mysterious grace and beauty which charms every eye, and makes the composition the wonder of mankind. 

But to return to the story. The people understood this awfulvisitation to be the judgment of heaven against Laocoon for hissacrilegious presumption in daring to thrust his spear into the sideof the image before them, and which they were now very sure they wereto consider as something supernatural and divine. They determined withone accord to take it into the city. 

They immediately began to make preparations for the transportation ofit. They raised it from the ground, and fitted to the feet some sortof machinery of wheels or rollers, suitable to the nature of theground, and strong enough to bear the weight of the colossal mass. They attached long ropes to the neck of the image, and extended themforward upon the ground, and then brought up large companies ofcitizens and soldiers to man them. They arranged a procession, consisting of the generals of the army, and of the great civildignitaries of the state; and in addition to these were groups ofsinging boys and girls, adorned with wreaths and garlands, who wereappointed to chant sacred hymns to solemnize the occasion. Theywidened the access to the city, too, by tearing down a portion of thewall so as to open a sufficient space to enable the monster to get in. When all was ready the ropes were manned, the signal was given, theponderous mass began to move, and though it encountered in itsprogress many difficulties, obstructions, and delays, in due time itwas safely deposited in the court of a great public edifice within thecity. The wall was then repaired, the day passed away, the night cameon, the gates were shut, and the curiosity and wonder of the peoplewithin being gradually satisfied, they at length dispersed to theirseveral homes and retired to rest. At midnight the unconscious effigystood silent and alone where its worshipers had left it, while thewhole population of the city were sunk in slumber, except thesentinels who had been stationed as usual to keep guard at the gates, or to watch upon the towers and battlements above them. 

In the mean time the Greek fleet, which had sailed away under pretenseof finally abandoning the country, had proceeded only to the island ofTenedos, which was about a league from the shore, and there they hadconcealed themselves during the day. As soon as night came on theyreturned to the main land, and disembarking with the utmost silenceand secrecy, they made their way back again under cover of thedarkness, as near as they dared to come to the gates of the city. Inthe mean time Sinon had arisen stealthily from the sleep which he hadfeigned to deceive those to whose charge he had been committed, andcreeping cautiously through the streets he repaired to the place wherethe wooden horse had been deposited, and there opened a secret door inthe side of the image, and liberated a band of armed and desperate menwho had been concealed within. These men, as soon as they haddescended to the ground and had adjusted their armor, rushed to thecity walls, surprised and killed the sentinels and watchmen, threwopen the gates, and gave the whole body of their comrades that werelurking outside the walls, in the silence and darkness of the night, an unobstructed admission. 

Æneas was asleep in his house while these things were transpiring. Thehouse where he lived was in a retired and quiet situation, but he wasawakened from his sleep by distant outcries and din, and springingfrom his couch, and hastily resuming his dress, he ascended to theroof of the house to ascertain the cause of the alarm. He saw flamesascending from various edifices in the quarter of the city where theGreeks had come in. He listened. He could distinctly hear the shoutsof men, and the notes of trumpets sounding the alarm. He immediatelyseized his armor and rushed forth into the streets, arousing theinhabitants around him from their slumbers by his shouts, and callingupon them to arm themselves and follow him. 

In the midst of this excitement, there suddenly appeared before him, coming from the scene of the conflict, a Trojan friend, namedPantheus, who was hastening away from the danger, perfectlybewildered with excitement and agitation. He was leading with him hislittle son, who was likewise pale with terror. Æneas asked Pantheuswhat had happened. Pantheus in reply explained to him in hurried andbroken words, that armed men, treacherously concealed within thewooden horse, had issued forth from their concealment, and had openedthe gates of the city, and let the whole horde of their ferocious anddesperate enemies in; that the sentinels and guards who had beenstationed at the gates had been killed; and that the Greek troops hadfull possession of the city, and were barricading the streets andsetting fire to the buildings on every side. "All is lost, " said he, "our cause is ruined, and Troy is no more. "

The announcing of these tidings filled Æneas and those who had joinedhim with a species of phrensy. They resolved to press forward into thecombat, and there, if they must perish themselves, to carry down asmany as possible of their enemies with them to destruction. Theypressed on, therefore, through the gloomy streets, guiding their waytoward the scene of action by the glare of the fires upon the sky, andby the sounds of the distant tumult and din. 

They soon found themselves in the midst of scenes of dreadful terrorand confusion, --the scenes, in fact, which are usually exhibited inthe midnight sacking of a city. They met with various adventuresduring the time that they continued their desperate but hopelessresistance. They encountered a party of Greeks, and overpowered andslew them, and then, seizing the armor which their fallen enemies hadworn, they disguised themselves in it, in hopes to deceive the mainbody of the Greeks by this means, so as to mingle among themunobserved, and thus attack and destroy such small parties as theymight meet without being themselves attacked by the rest. They saw theprincess Cassandra, the young daughter of king Priam, dragged away byGreek soldiers from a temple where she had sought refuge. Theyimmediately undertook to rescue her, and were at once attacked both bythe Greek party who had the princess in charge, and also by the Trojansoldiers, who shot arrows and darts down upon them from the roofsabove, supposing, from the armor and the plumes which they wore, thatthey were enemies. They saw the royal palace besieged, and the_tortoise_ formed for scaling the walls of it. The tumult and din, andthe frightful glare of lurid flames by which the city was illuminated, a scene of inconceivable confusion and terror. 

[Illustration: THE TORTOISE. ]

Æneas watched the progress of the assault upon the palace from the topof certain lofty roofs, to which he ascended for the purpose. Herethere was a slender tower, which had been built for a watch-tower, andhad been carried up to such a height that, from the summit of it, thewatchmen stationed there could survey all the environs of the city, and on one side look off to some distance over the sea. This towerÆneas and the Trojans who were with him contrived to cut off at itsbase, and throw over upon the throngs of Grecians that were thunderingat the palace gates below. Great numbers were killed by the fallingruins, and the tortoise was broken down. The Greeks, however, soonformed another tortoise, by means of which some of the soldiers scaledthe walls, while others broke down the gates with battering rams andengines; and thus the palace, the sacred and last remaining strongholdof the city, was thrown open to the ferocious and frantic horde of itsassailants. 

The sacking of the palace presented an awful spectacle to the view ofÆneas and his companions, as they looked down upon it from the roofsand battlements around. As the walls, one after another, fell in underthe resistless blows dealt by the engines that were brought againstthem, the interior halls, and the most retired and private apartments, were thrown open to view--all illuminated by the glare of thesurrounding conflagrations. 

Shrieks and wailing, and every other species of outcry that comes fromgrief, terror, and despair, arose from within; and such spectators ashad the heart to look continuously upon the spectacle, could seewretched men running to and fro, and virgins clinging to altars forprotection, and frantic mothers vainly endeavoring to findhiding-places for themselves and their helpless children. 

Priam the king, who was at this time old and infirm, was aroused fromhis slumbers by the dreadful din, and immediately began to seize hisarmor, and to prepare himself for rushing into the fight. His wife, however, Hecuba, begged and entreated him to desist. She saw that allwas lost, and that any farther attempts at resistance would onlyexasperate their enemies, and render their own destruction the moreinevitable. She persuaded the king, therefore, to give up his weaponsand go with her to an altar, in one of the courts of the palace, --aplace which it would be sacrilege for their enemies to violate--andthere patiently and submissively to await the end. Priam yielded tothe queen's solicitations, and went with her to the place of refugewhich she had chosen;--and the plan which they thus adopted, mightvery probably have been successful in saving their lives, had it notbeen for an unexpected occurrence which suddenly intervened, and whichled to a fatal result. While they were seated by the altar, inattitudes of submission and suppliance, they were suddenly aroused bythe rushing toward them of one of their sons, who came in, wounded andbleeding from some scene of combat, and pursued by angry and ferociousfoes. The spent and fainting warrior sank down at the feet of hisfather and mother, and lay there dying and weltering in the bloodwhich flowed from his wounds. The aged king was aroused to madness atthis spectacle. He leaped to his feet, seized a javelin, andthundering out at the same time the most loud and bitter imprecationsagainst the murderers of his son, he hurled the weapon toward them asthey advanced. The javelin struck the shield of the leader of theassailants, and rebounded from it without producing any other effectthan to enrage still more the furious spirit which it was meant todestroy. The assailant rushed forward, seized the aged father by thehair, dragged him slipping, as he went, in the blood of his son, up tothe altar, and there plunged a sword into his body, burying it to thehilt, --and then threw him down, convulsed and dying, upon the body ofhis dying child. 

Thus Priam fell, and with him the last hope of the people of Troy. Thecity in full possession of their enemies, the palace and citadelsacked and destroyed, and the king slain, they saw that there wasnothing now left for which they had any wish to contend. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE FLIGHT OF ÆNEAS. 

B. C. 1200

Æneas's reflections. --He determines to go home. --Æneas is left at lastalone. --He goes away. --He sees the princess Helen. --Story ofHelen. --Æneas determines to destroy her. --His reflections. --Theapparition of Aphrodite. --Her words. --His mother's magicalprotection. --He reaches his home. --The determination ofAnchises. --Creusa's entreaties. --The plan formed for the escape of thefamily. --The lion's skin. --The household gods. --Creusa. --The wholeparty proceed towards the gates. --Escape from the city. --Creusa islost. --Æneas goes back in search of Creusa. --He finds that his househas been burned. --The apparition of Creusa. --Her predictions. --Herfarewell to her husband. --Preparations for departure. --Æneas's companyincreases. --His fleet. --The embarkation. --Map of the wanderings ofÆneas. --A dreadful prodigy. --The bleeding myrtle. --Words of themyrtle. --Story of Polydorus. --Æneas leaves Thrace. --His variouswanderings. --The attempted settlement at Crete. --Calamities. --Æneas'sperplexity. --Advice of Anchises. --Scene at night. --The householddeities. --Their address to Æneas. --Effect of this address. --Subsequentadventures. --Danger of shipwreck. --The harpies. --Æneas drivenaway. --Dangers at Mt. Etna. --The one-eyed giants. --Polyphemus. --Remarkson the story of Æneas. 

Æneas, from his station upon the battlements of a neighboring edifice, witnessed the taking of the palace and the death of Priam. Heimmediately gave up all for lost, and turned his thoughts at once tothe sole question of the means of saving himself and his family fromimpending destruction. He thought of his father, Anchises, who at thistime lived with him in the city, and was nearly of the same age asPriam the king, whom he had just seen so cruelly slain. He thought ofhis wife too, whom he had left at home, and of his little sonAscanius, and he began now to be overwhelmed with the apprehension, that the besiegers had found their way to his dwelling, and were, perhaps, at that very moment plundering and destroying it andperpetrating cruel deeds of violence and outrage upon his wife andfamily. He determined immediately to hasten home. 

He looked around to see who of his companions remained with him. There was not one. They had all gone and left him alone. Some hadleaped down from the battlements and made their escape to other partsof the city. Some had fallen in the attempt to leap, and had perishedin the flames that were burning among the buildings beneath them. Others still had been reached by darts and arrows from below, and hadtumbled headlong from their lofty height into the street beneath them. The Greeks, too, had left that part of the city. When the destructionof the palace had been effected, there was no longer any motive toremain, and they had gone away, one band after another, with loudshouts of exultation and defiance, to seek new combats in otherquarters of the city. Æneas listened to the sounds of their voices, asthey gradually died away upon his ear. Thus, in one way and another, all had gone, and Æneas found himself alone. 

Æneas contrived to find his way back safely to the street, and thenstealthily choosing his way, and vigilantly watching against thedangers that surrounded him, he advanced cautiously among the ruins ofthe palace, in the direction toward his own home. He had notproceeded far before he saw a female figure lurking in the shadow ofan altar near which he had to pass. It proved to be the princessHelen. 

[Illustration: HELEN. ]

Helen was a Grecian princess, formerly the wife of Menelaus, king ofSparta, but she had eloped from Greece some years before, with Paris, the son of Priam, king of Troy, and this elopement had been the wholecause of the Trojan war. In the first instance, Menelaus, accompaniedby another Grecian chieftain, went to Troy and demanded that Helenshould be given up again to her proper husband. Paris refused tosurrender her. Menelaus then returned to Greece and organized a grandexpedition to proceed to Troy and recapture the queen. This was theorigin of the war. The people, therefore, looked upon Helen as thecause, whether innocent or guilty, of all their calamities. 

When Æneas, therefore, who was, as may well be supposed, in no veryamiable or gentle temper, as he hurried along away from the smokingruins of the palace toward his home, saw Helen endeavoring to screenherself from the destruction which she had been the means of bringingupon all that he held dear, he was aroused to a phrensy of angeragainst her, and determined to avenge the wrongs of his country by herdestruction. "I will kill her, " said he to himself, as he rushedforward toward the spot where she was concealed. "There is no greatglory it is true in wreaking vengeance on a woman, or in bringing herto the punishment which her crimes deserve. Still I will kill her, andI shall be commended for the deed. She shall not, after bringing ruinupon us, escape herself, and go back to Greece in safety and be aqueen there again. "

As Æneas said these words, rushing forward at the same time, sword inhand, he was suddenly intercepted and brought to a stand by theapparition of his mother, the goddess Aphrodite, who all at once stoodin the way before him. She stopped him, took him by the hand, urgedhim to restrain his useless anger, and calmed and quieted him withsoothing words. "It is not Helen, " said she, "that has caused thedestruction of Troy. It is through the irresistible and irrevocabledecrees of the gods that the city has fallen. It is useless for you tostruggle against inevitable destiny, or to attempt to take vengeanceon mere human means and instrumentalities. Think no more of Helen. Think of your family. Your aged father, your helpless wife, yourlittle son, --where are they? Even now while you are wasting time herein vain attempts to take vengeance on Helen for what the gods havedone, all that are near and dear to you are surrounded by ferociousenemies thirsting for their blood. Fly to them and save them. I shallaccompany you, though unseen, and will protect you and them fromevery impending danger. "

As soon as Aphrodite had spoken these words she disappeared from view. Æneas, following her injunctions, went directly toward his home; andhe found as he passed along the streets that the way was opened forhim, by mysterious movements among the armed bands which were passingin every direction about the city, in such a manner as to convince himthat his mother was really accompanying him, and protecting his way byher supernatural powers. 

When he reached home the first person whom he saw was Anchises hisfather. He told Anchises that all was lost, and that nothing nowremained for them but to seek safety for themselves by flying to themountains behind the city. But Anchises refused to go. "You who areyoung, " said he, "and who have enough of life before you to be worthpreserving, may fly. As for me I will not attempt to save the littleremnant that remains to me, to be spent, if saved, in miserable exile. If the powers of heaven had intended that I should have lived anylonger, they would have spared my native city, --my only home. You maygo yourselves, but leave me here to die. "

In saying these words Anchises turned away in great despondency, firmly fixed, apparently, in his determination to remain and share thefate of the city. Æneas and Creusa his wife joined their entreaties inurging him to go away. But he would not be persuaded. Æneas thendeclared that he would not go and leave his father. If one was to diethey would all die, he said, together. He called for his armor andbegan to put it on, resolving to go out again into the streets of thecity and die, since he must die, in the act of destroying hisdestroyers. 

He was, however, prevented from carrying this determination intoeffect, by Creusa's intervention, who fell down before him at thethreshold of the door, almost frantic with excitement and terror, andholding her little son Ascanius with one arm, and clasping herhusband's knees with the other, she begged him not to leave them. "Stay and save us, " said she; "do not go and throw your life away. Or, if you will go, take us with you that we may all die together. "

The conflict of impulses and passions in this unhappy familycontinued for some time longer, but it ended at last, in the yieldingof Anchises to the wishes of the rest, and they all resolved to fly. In the mean time, the noise and uproar in the streets of the city, were drawing nearer and nearer, and the light of the burning buildingsbreaking out continually at new points in the progress of theconflagration, indicated that no time was to be lost. Æneas hastilyformed his plan. His father was too old and infirm to go himselfthrough the city. Æneas determined therefore to carry him upon hisshoulders. Little Ascanius was to walk along by his side. Creusa wasto follow, keeping as close as possible to her husband lest she shouldlose him in the darkness of the night, or in the scenes of uproar andconfusion through which they would have to pass on the way. Thedomestics of the family were to escape from the city by differentroutes, each choosing his own, in order to avoid attracting theattention of their enemies; and when once without the gates they wereall to rendezvous again at a certain rising ground, not far from thecity, which Æneas designated to them by means of an old desertedtemple which marked the spot, and a venerable cypress which grewthere. 

This plan being formed the party immediately proceeded to put it inexecution. Æneas spread a lion's skin over his shoulders to make theresting-place more easy for his father, or perhaps to lighten thepressure of the heavy burden upon his own limbs. Anchises took whatwere called the household gods, in his hands. These were sacred imageswhich it was customary to keep, in those days, in every dwelling, asthe symbol and embodiment of divine protection. To save these images, when every thing else was given up for lost, was always the object ofthe last desperate effort of the husband and father. Æneas in thiscase asked his father to take these images, as it would have been animpiety for him, having come fresh from scenes of battle andbloodshed, to have put his hand upon them, without previouslyperforming some ceremony of purification. Ascanius took hold of hisfather's hand. Creusa followed behind. Thus arranged they salliedforth from the house into the streets--all dark and gloomy, except sofar as they received a partial and inconstant light from the flamesof the distant conflagrations, which glared in the sky, and flashedsometimes upon battlements and towers, and upon the tops of loftydwellings. 

Æneas pressed steadily on, though in a state continually of thehighest excitement and apprehension. He kept stealthily along whereverhe could find the deepest shadows, under walls, and through the mostobscure and the narrowest streets. He was in constant fear lest somestray dart or arrow should strike Anchises or Creusa, or lest someband of Greeks should come suddenly upon them, in which case he knewwell that they would all be cut down without mercy, for, loaded downas he was with his burden, he would be entirely unable to do any thingto defend either himself or them. The party, however, for a timeseemed to escape all these dangers, but at length, just as they wereapproaching the gate of the city, and began to think that they weresafe, they were suddenly alarmed by a loud uproar, and by a rush ofmen which came in toward them from some streets in that quarter of thecity, and threatened to overwhelm them. Anchises was greatly alarmed. He saw the gleaming weapons of the Greeks who were rushing towardthem, and he called out to Æneas to fly faster, or to turn off someother way, in order to escape the impending danger. Æneas wasterrified by the shouts and uproar which he heard, and his mind wasfor a moment confused by the bewildering influences of the scene. Hehowever hurried forward, running this way and that, wherever thereseemed the best prospect of escape, and often embarrassed and retardedin his flight by the crowds of people who were moving confusedly inall directions. At length, however, he succeeded in finding egressfrom the city. He pressed on, without stopping to look behind him tillhe reached the appointed place of rendezvous on the hill, and thengently laying down his burden, he looked around for Creusa. She wasnowhere to be seen. 

Æneas was in utter consternation, at finding that his wife was gone. He mourned and lamented this dreadful calamity with loud exclamationsof grief and despair; then reflecting that it was a time for actionand not for idle grief, he hastened to conceal his father and Ascaniusin a dark and winding valley behind the hill, and leaving them thereunder the charge of his domestics, he hastened back to the city tosee if Creusa could be found. 

He armed himself completely before he went, being in his desperationdetermined to encounter every danger in his attempts to find and torecover his beloved wife. He went directly to the gate from which hehad come out, and re-entering the city there, he began to retrace, aswell as he could, the way that he had taken in coming out of thecity--guiding himself as he went, by the light of the flames whichrose up here and there from the burning buildings. 

He went on in this way in a desperate state of agitation and distress, searching everywhere but seeing nothing of Creusa. At length hethought it possible that she had concluded, when she found herselfseparated from him, to go back to the house, as the safest place ofrefuge for her, and he determined, accordingly, to go and seek herthere. This was his last hope, and most cruelly was it disappointedwhen he came to the place of his dwelling. 

He found his house, when he arrived near the spot, all in flames. Thesurrounding buildings were burning too, and the streets in theneighborhood were piled up with furniture and goods which thewretched inmates of the dwellings had vainly endeavored to save. Theseinmates themselves were standing around, distracted with grief andterror, and gazing hopelessly upon the scene of devastation beforethem. 

Æneas saw all these things at a glance, and immediately, in a phrensyof excitement, began to call out Creusa's name. He went to and froamong the groups surrounding the fire, calling for her in a franticmanner, and imploring all whom he saw to give him some tidings of her. All was, however, in vain. She could not be found. Æneas then wentroaming about through other portions of the city, seeking hereverywhere, and inquiring for her of every person whom he met that hadthe appearance of being a friend. His suspense, however, wasterminated at last by his suddenly coming upon an apparition of thespirit of Creusa, which rose before him in a solitary part of thecity, and arrested his progress. The apparition was of preternaturalsize, and it stood before him in so ethereal and shadow-like a form, and the features beamed upon him with so calm and placid and benignantan expression, as convinced him that the vision was not of thisworld. Æneas saw at a glance that Creusa's earthly sorrows andsufferings were ended forever. 

At first he was shocked and terrified at the spectacle. Creusa, however, endeavored to calm and quiet him by soothing words. "Mydearest husband, " said she, "do not give way thus to anxiety andgrief. The events which have befallen us, have not come by chance. They are all ordered by an overruling providence that is omnipotentand divine. It was predetermined by the decrees of heaven that youwere not to take me with you in your flight. I have learned what yourfuture destiny is to be. There is a long period of weary wanderingbefore you, over the ocean and on the land, and you will have manydifficulties, dangers, and trials to incur. You will, however, beconducted safely through them all, and will in the end find a peacefuland happy home on the banks of the Tiber. There you will found a newkingdom; a princess is even now provided for you there, to become yourbride. Cease then to mourn for me; rather rejoice that I did not falla captive into the hands of our enemies, to be carried away intoGreece and made a slave. I am free, and you must not lament my fate. Farewell. Love Ascanius for my sake, and watch over him and protecthim as long as you live. "

Having spoken these words, the vision began to disappear. Æneasendeavored to clasp the beloved image in his arms to retain it, but itwas intangible and evanescent, and, before he could speak to it, itwas gone, and he was left standing in the desolate and gloomy streetalone. He turned at length slowly away; and solitary, thoughtful andsad, he went back to the gate of the city, and thence out to thevalley where he had concealed Anchises and his little son. 

He found them safe. The whole party then sought places of retreatamong the glens and mountains, where they could remain concealed a fewdays, while Æneas and his companions could make arrangements forabandoning the country altogether. These arrangements were sooncompleted. As soon as the Greeks had retired, so that they could comeout without danger from their place of retreat, Æneas employed his menin building a number of small vessels, fitting them, as was usual inthose days, both with sails and oars. 

During the progress of these preparations, small parties of Trojanswere coming in continually, day by day, to join him; being drawnsuccessively from their hiding-places among the mountains, by hearingthat the Greeks had gone away, and that Æneas was gradually assemblingthe remnant of the Trojans on the shore. The numbers thus collected atÆneas's encampment gradually increased, and as Æneas enlarged andextended his naval preparations to correspond with the augmentingnumbers of his adherents, he found when he was ready to set sail, thathe was at the head of a very respectable naval and military force. 

When the fleet at last was ready, he put a stock of provisions onboard, and embarked his men, --taking, of course, Anchises and Ascaniuswith him. As soon as a favorable wind arose, the expedition set sail. As the vessels moved slowly away, the decks were covered with men andwomen, who gazed mournfully at the receding shores, conscious thatthey were bidding a final farewell to their native land. 

[Illustration: WANDERINGS OF ÆNEAS. ]

The nearest country within reach in leaving the Trojan coast, wasThrace--a country lying north of the Egean Sea, and of the Propontis, being separated, in fact, in one part, from the Trojan territories, only by the Hellespont. Æneas turned his course northward toward thiscountry, and, after a short voyage, landed there, and attempted tomake a settlement. He was, however, prevented from remaining long, bya dreadful prodigy which he witnessed there, and which induced him toleave those shores very precipitously. The prodigy was this:

They had erected an altar on the shore, after they had landed, andwere preparing to offer the sacrifices customary on such occasions, when Æneas, wishing to shade the altar with boughs, went to a myrtlebush which was growing near, and began to pull up the green shootsfrom the ground. To his astonishment and horror, he found that bloodflowed from the roots whenever they were broken. Drops of whatappeared to be human blood would ooze from the ruptured part as heheld the shoot in his hand, and fall slowly to the ground. He wasgreatly terrified at this spectacle, considering it as some omen ofvery dreadful import. He immediately and instinctively offered up aprayer to the presiding deities of the land, that they would avertfrom him the evil influences, whatever they might be, which the omenseemed to portend, or that they would at least explain the meaning ofthe prodigy. After offering this prayer, he took hold of another stemof the myrtle, and attempted to draw it from the ground, in order tosee whether any change in the appearances exhibited by the prodigyhad been effected by his prayer. At the instant, however, when theroots began to give way, he heard a groan coming up from the groundbelow, as if from a person in suffering. Immediately afterward avoice, in a mournful and sepulchral accent, began to beg him to goaway, and cease disturbing the repose of the dead. "What you aretearing and lacerating, " said the voice, "is not a tree, but a man. Iam Polydorus. I was killed by the king of Thrace, and instead ofburial, have been turned into a myrtle growing on the shore. "

Polydorus was a Trojan prince. He was the youngest son of Priam, andhad been sent some years before to Thrace, to be brought up in thecourt of the Thracian king. He had been provided with a large supplyof money and treasure when he left Troy, in order that all his wantsmight be abundantly supplied, and that he might maintain, during hisabsence from home, the position to which his rank as a Trojan princeentitled him. His treasures, however, which had been provided for himby his father as his sure reliance for support and protection, becamethe occasion of his ruin--for the Thracian king, when he found thatthe war was going against the Trojans, and that Priam the father wasslain, and the city destroyed, murdered the helpless son to getpossession of his gold. 

Æneas and his companions were shocked to hear this story, andperceived at once that Thrace was no place of safety for them. Theyresolved immediately to leave the coast and seek their fortunes inother regions. They however, first, in secrecy and silence, but withgreat solemnity, performed those funeral rites for Polydorus whichwere considered in those ages essential to the repose of the dead. When these mournful ceremonies were ended they embarked on board theirships again and sailed away. 

After this, the party of Æneas spent many months in weary voyages fromisland to island, and from shore to shore, along the Mediterraneansea, encountering every imaginable difficulty and danger, and meetingcontinually with the strangest and most romantic adventures. At onetime they were misled by a mistaken interpretation of prophecy toattempt a settlement in Crete--a green and beautiful island lyingsouth of the Egean sea. They had applied to a sacred oracle, whichhad its seat at a certain consecrated spot which they visited in thecourse of their progress southward through the Egean sea, asking theoracle to direct them where to go in order to find a settled home. Theoracle, in answer to their request, informed them that they were to goto the land that their ancestors had originally come from, beforetheir settlement in Troy. Æneas applied to Anchises to inform themwhat land this was. Anchises replied, that he thought it was Crete. There was an ancient tradition, he said, that some distinguished menamong the ancestors of the Trojans had originated in Crete; and hepresumed accordingly that that was the land to which the oraclereferred. 

The course of the little fleet was accordingly directed southward, andin due time the expedition safely reached the island of Crete, andlanded there. They immediately commenced the work of effecting asettlement. They drew the ships up upon the shore; they laid out acity; they inclosed and planted fields, and began to build theirhouses. In a short time, however, all their bright prospects of restand security were blighted by the breaking out of a dreadfulpestilence among them. Many died; others who still lived, wereutterly prostrated by the effects of the disease, and crawled about, emaciated and wretched, a miserable and piteous spectacle to behold. To crown their misfortunes, a great drought came on. The grain whichthey had planted was dried up and killed in the fields; and thus, inaddition to the horrors of pestilence, they were threatened with thestill greater horrors of famine. Their distress was extreme, and theywere utterly at a loss to know what to do. 

In this extremity Anchises recommended that they should send back tothe oracle to inquire more particularly in respect to the meaning ofthe former response, in order to ascertain whether they had, bypossibility, misinterpreted it, and made their settlement on the wrongground. Or, if this was not the case, to learn by what other error orfault they had displeased the celestial powers, and brought uponthemselves such terrible judgments. Æneas determined to adopt thisadvice, but he was prevented from carrying his intentions into effectby the following occurrence. 

One night he was lying upon his couch in his dwelling, --so harassedby his anxieties and cares that he could not sleep, and revolving inhis mind all possible plans for extricating himself and his followersfrom the difficulties which environed them. The moon shone in at thewindows, and by the light of this luminary he saw, reposing in theirshrines in the opposite side of the apartment where he was sleeping, the household images which he had rescued from the flames of Troy. Ashe looked upon these divinities in the still and solemn hour ofmidnight, oppressed with anxiety and care, one of them began toaddress him. 

"We are commissioned, " said this supernatural voice, "by Apollo, whoseoracle you are intending to consult again, to give you the answer thatyou desire, without requiring you to go back to his temple. It is truethat you have erred in attempting to make a settlement in Crete. Thisis not the land which is destined to be your home. You must leavethese shores, and continue your voyage. The land which is destined toreceive you is Italy, a land far removed from this spot, and your wayto it lies over wide and boisterous seas. Do not be discouraged, however, on this account or on account of the calamities which nowimpend over you. You will be prospered in the end. You will reachItaly in safety, and there you will lay the foundations of a mightyempire, which in days to come will extend its dominion far and wideamong the nations of the earth. Take courage, then, and embark oncemore in your ships with a cheerful and confident heart. You are safe, and in the end all will turn out well. "

The strength and spirits of the desponding adventurer were veryessentially revived by this encouragement. He immediately prepared toobey the injunctions which had been thus divinely communicated to him, and in a short time the half-built city was abandoned, and theexpedition once more embarked on board the fleet and proceeded to sea. They met in their subsequent wanderings with a great variety ofadventures, but it would extend this portion of our narrative too far, to relate them all. They encountered a storm by which for three daysand three nights they were tossed to and fro, without seeing sun orstars, and of course without any guidance whatever; and during allthis time they were in the most imminent danger of being overwhelmedand destroyed by the billows which rolled sublimely and frightfullyaround them. At another time, having landed for rest and refreshmentamong a group of Grecian islands, they were attacked by the _harpies_, birds of prey of prodigious size and most offensive habits, and fierceand voracious beyond description. The harpies were celebrated, infact, in many of the ancient tales, as a race of beings that infestedcertain shores, and often teased and tormented the mariners andadventurers that happened to come among them. Some said, however, thatthere was not a race of such beings, but only two or three in all, andthey gave their names. And yet different narrators gave differentnames, among which were Aëlopos, Nicothoë, Ocythoë, Ocypoæ, Celæno, Acholoë, and Aëllo. Some said that the harpies had the faces and formsof women. Others described them as frightfully ugly; but all agree inrepresenting them as voracious beyond description, always greedilydevouring every thing that they could get within reach of their claws. 

These fierce monsters flew down upon Æneas and his party, and carriedaway the food from off the table before them; and even attacked themen themselves. The men then armed themselves with swords, secretly, and waited for the next approach of the harpies, intending to killthem, when they came near. But the nimble marauders eluded all theirblows, and escaped with their plunder as before. At length theexpedition was driven away from the island altogether, by theseravenous fowls, and when they were embarking on board of theirvessels, the leader of the harpies perched herself upon a rockoverlooking the scene, and in a human voice loaded Æneas and hiscompanions, as they went away, with taunts and execrations. 

The expedition passed one night in great terror and dread in thevicinity of Mount Etna, where they had landed. The awful eruptions ofsmoke, and flame, and burning lava, which issued at midnight from thesummit of the mountain, --the thundering sounds which they heardrolling beneath them, through the ground, and the dread which wasinspired in their minds by the terrible monsters that dwelt beneaththe mountains, as they supposed, and fed the fires, all combined toimpress them with a sense of unutterable awe; and as soon as the lightof the morning enabled them to resume their course, they made allhaste to get away from so appalling a scene. At another time theytouched upon a coast which was inhabited by a race of one-eyedgiants, --monsters of enormous magnitude and of remorseless cruelty. They were cannibals, --feeding on the bodies of men whom they killed bygrasping them in their hands and beating them against the rocks whichformed the sides of their den. Some men whom one of these monsters, named Polyphemus, had shut up in his cavern, contrived to surprisetheir keeper in his sleep, and though they were wholly unable to killhim on account of his colossal magnitude, they succeeded in puttingout his eye, and Æneas and his companions saw the blinded giant, asthey passed along the coast, wading in the sea, and bathing his wound. He was guiding his footsteps as he walked, by means of the trunk of atall pine which served him for a staff. 

At length, however, after the lapse of a long period of time, andafter meeting with a great variety of adventures to which we can noteven here allude, Æneas and his party reached the shores of Italy, atthe point which by divine intimations had been pointed out to them asthe place where they were to land. [D]

[Footnote D: See Map, page 134. ]

The story of the life and adventures of Æneas, which we have given inthis and in the preceding chapters, is a faithful summary of thenarrative which the poetic historians of those days recorded. It is, of course, not to be relied upon as a narrative of facts; but it isworthy of very special attention by every cultivated mind of thepresent day, from the fact, that such is the beauty, the grace, themelody, the inimitable poetic perfection with which the story is told, in the language in which the original record stands, that thenarrative has made a more deep, and widespread, and lasting impressionupon the human mind than any other narrative perhaps that ever waspenned. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE LANDING IN LATIUM. 

B. C. 1197-1190

Description of the country where Æneas landed. --The landing. --Mouth ofthe Tiber. --Burning of the ships. --Italy in ancient days. --Sacrificesoffered. --Map of Latium. --Reconnoitring the country. --King Latinus. --Anembassy. --The embassy come to the capital. --The embassadors areadmitted to an audience. --Their address to king Latinus. --Latinusaccedes to Æneas's requests. --Proposal of marriage. --Lavinia andTurnus. --The anger of Turnus at being set aside. --Lavinium. --Situationof the Trojan territory. --The story of Sylvia's stag. --Ascanius shootsthe stag. --The resentment of Sylvia's brothers. --Sudden outbreak. --Deathof Almon. --Great excitement. --Preparation for war. --Latinus. --TheTrojans gradually gain ground. --Desire for peace. --Turnus opposesit. --A proposal for single combat. --Result of the combat. --Marriageof Æneas. --Æneas drowned in the Numicius. 

Latium was the name given to an ancient province of Italy, lying southof the Tiber. At the time of Æneas's arrival upon the coast it was anindependent kingdom. The name of the king who reigned over it at thisperiod was Latinus. 

The country on the banks of the Tiber, where the city of Romeafterward arose, was then a wild but picturesque rural region, consisting of hills and valleys, occupied by shepherds and husbandmen, but with nothing upon it whatever, to mark it as the site of a city. The people that dwelt in Latium were shepherds and herdsmen, thoughthere was a considerable band of warriors under the command of theking. The inhabitants of the country were of Greek origin, and theyhad brought with them from Greece, when they colonized the country, such rude arts as were then known. They had the use of Cadmus'sletters, for writing, so far as writing was employed at all in thoseearly days. They were skillful in making such weapons of war, and suchsimple instruments of music, as were known at the time, and they coulderect buildings, of wood, or of stone, and thus constructed suchdwellings as they needed, in their towns, and walls and citadels fordefence. 

Æneas brought his fleet into the mouth of the Tiber, and anchored itthere. He himself, and all his followers were thoroughly weary oftheir wanderings, and hoped that they were now about to land wherethey should find a permanent abode. The number of ships and men thathad formed the expedition at the commencement of the voyage, was verylarge; but it had been considerably diminished by the variousmisfortunes and accidents incident to such an enterprise, and theremnant that was left longed ardently for rest. Some of the ships tookfire, and were burned at their moorings in the Tiber, immediatelyafter the arrival of the expedition. It was said that they were set onfire by the wives and mothers belonging to the expedition, --whowished, by destroying the ships, to render it impossible for the fleetto go to sea again. 

However this may be, Æneas was very strongly disposed to make thebeautiful region which he now saw before him, his final home. Thecountry, in every aspect of it, was alluring in the highest degree. Level plains, varied here and there by gentle elevations, extendedaround him, all adorned with groves and flowers, and exhibiting aluxuriance in the verdure of the grass and in the foliage of the treesthat was perfectly enchanting to the sea-weary eyes of his company ofmariners. In the distance, blue and beautiful mountains bounded thehorizon, and a soft, warm summer haze floated over the whole scene, bathing the landscape in a rich mellow light peculiar to Italianskies. 

As soon as the disembarkation was effected, lines of encampment weremarked out, at a suitable place on the shore, and such simplefortifications as were necessary for defence in such a case, werethrown up. Æneas dispatched one party in boats to explore the variouspassages and channels which formed the mouth of the river, perhaps inorder to be prepared to make good his escape again, to sea, in case ofany sudden or extraordinary danger. Another party were employed inerecting altars, and preparing for sacrifices and other religiouscelebrations, designed on the part of Æneas to propitiate the deitiesof the place, and to inspire his men with religious confidence andtrust. He also immediately proceeded to organize a party ofreconnoiterers who were to proceed into the interior, to explore thecountry and to communicate with the inhabitants. 

[Illustration: MAP OF LATIUM. ]

The party of reconnoiterers thus sent out followed up the banks of theriver, and made excursions in various directions across the fields andplains. They found that the country was everywhere verdant andbeautiful, and that it was covered in the interior with scatteredhamlets and towns. They learned the name of the king, and also that ofthe city which he made his capitol. Latinus himself, at the same time, heard the tidings of the arrival of these strangers. His first impulsewas immediately to make an onset upon them with all his forces, anddrive them away from his shores. On farther inquiry, however, helearned that they were in a distressed and suffering condition, andfrom the descriptions which were given him of their dress and demeanorhe concluded that they were Greeks. This idea awakened in his mindsome apprehension; for the Greeks were then well known throughout theworld, and were regarded everywhere as terrible enemies. Besides hisfears, his pity and compassion were awakened, too, in some degree; andhe was on the whole for a time quite at a loss to know what course topursue in respect to the intruders. 

In the mean time Æneas concluded to send an embassy to Latinus toexplain the circumstances under which he had been induced to land solarge a party on the Italian coast. He accordingly designated aconsiderable number of men to form this embassy, and giving to some ofthe number his instructions as to what they were to say to Latinus, hecommitted to the hands of the others a large number of gifts whichthey were to carry and present to him. These gifts consisted ofweapons elaborately finished, vessels of gold or silver, embroideredgarments, and such other articles as were customarily employed inthose days as propitiatory offerings in such emergencies. The embassywhen all was arranged proceeded to the Latin capital. 

When they came in sight of it they found that it was a spacious city, with walls around it, and turrets and battlements within, rising hereand there above the roofs of the dwellings. Outside the gates aportion of the population were assembled busily engaged in games, andin various gymnastic and equestrian performances. Some were drivingfuriously in chariots around great circles marked out for the course. Others were practicing feats of horsemanship, or running races uponfleet chargers. Others still were practicing with darts, or bows andarrows, or javelins; either to test and improve their individualskill, or else to compete with each other for victory or for a prize. The embassadors paused when they came in view of this scene, andwaited until intelligence could be sent in to the monarch, informinghim of their arrival. 

Latinus decided immediately to admit the embassy to an audience, andthey were accordingly conducted into the city. They were led, afterentering by the gates, through various streets, until they came atlength to a large public edifice, which seemed to be, at the sametime, palace, senate-house, and citadel. There were to be seen, in theavenues which led to this edifice, statues of old warriors, andvarious other martial decorations. There were many old trophies offormer victories preserved here, such as arms, and chariots, and prowsof ships, and crests, and great bolts and bars taken from the gates ofconquered cities, --all old, war-worn, and now useless, but preservedas memorials of bravery and conquest. The Trojan embassy, passingthrough and among these trophies, as they stood or hung in the hallsand vestibules of the palace, were at length ushered into the presenceof Latinus the king. 

Here, after the usual ceremonies of introduction were performed, theydelivered the message which Æneas had intrusted to them. They declaredthat they had not landed on Latinus's shore with any hostile intent. They had been driven away, they said, from their own homes, by aseries of dire calamities, which had ended, at last, in the totaldestruction of their native city. Since then they had been driven toand fro at the mercy of the winds and waves, exposed to everyconceivable degree of hardship and danger. Their landing finally inthe dominions of Latinus in Italy, was not, they confessed, whollyundesigned, for Latium had been divinely indicated to them, on theirway, as the place destined by the decrees of heaven for their finalhome. Following these indications, they had sought the shores of Italyand the mouths of the Tiber, and having succeeded in reaching them, had landed; and now Æneas, their commander, desired of the king thathe would allow them to settle in his land in peace, and that he wouldset apart a portion of his territory for them, and give them leave tobuild a city. 

The effect produced upon the mind of Latinus by the appearance ofthese embassadors, and by the communication which they made to him, proved to be highly favorable. He received the presents, too, whichthey had brought him, in a very gracious manner, and appeared to bemuch pleased with them. He had heard, as would seem, rumors of thedestruction of Troy, and of the departure of Æneas's squadron; for along time had been consumed by the wanderings of the expedition alongthe Mediterranean shores, so that some years had now elapsed since thedestruction of Troy and the first sailing of the fleet. In a word, Latinus soon determined to accede to the proposals of his visitors, and he concluded with Æneas a treaty of alliance and friendship. Hedesignated a spot where the new city might be built, and all thingswere thus amicably settled. 

There was one circumstance which exerted a powerful influence inpromoting the establishment of friendly relations between Latinus andthe Trojans, and that was, that Latinus was engaged, at the time ofÆneas's arrival, in a war with the Rutulians, a nation that inhabiteda country lying south of Latium and on the coast. Latinus thought thatby making the Trojans his friends, he should be able to enlist them ashis auxiliaries in this war. Æneas made no objection to this, and itwas accordingly agreed that the Trojans, in return for being receivedas friends, and allowed to settle in Latium, were to join with theirprotectors in defending the country, and were especially to aid themin prosecuting the existing war. 

In a short time a still closer alliance was formed between Æneas andLatinus, an alliance which in the end resulted in the accession ofÆneas to the throne of Latinus. Latinus had a daughter named Lavinia. She was an only child, and was a princess of extraordinary merit andbeauty. The name of the queen, her mother, the wife of Latinus, wasAmata. Amata had intended her daughter to be the wife of Turnus, ayoung prince of great character and promise, who had been brought upin Latinus's court. Turnus was, in fact, a distant relative of Amata, and the plan of the queen was that he should marry Lavinia, and in theend succeed with her, to the throne of Latinus. Latinus himself hadnot entered into this scheme; and when closing his negotiations withÆneas, it seemed to him that it would be well to seal and secure theadherence of Æneas to his cause by offering him his daughter Laviniafor his bride. Æneas was very willing to accede to this proposal. Whatthe wishes of Lavinia herself were in respect to the arrangement, itis not very well known; nor were her wishes, according to the ideasthat prevailed in those times, of any consequence whatever. The planwas arranged, and the nuptials were soon to be celebrated. Turnus, when he found that he was to be superseded, left the court of Latinus, and went away out of the country in a rage. 

Æneas and his followers seemed now to have come to the end of alltheir troubles. They were at last happily established in a fruitfulland, surrounded by powerful friends, and about to enter apparentlyupon a long career of peaceful and prosperous industry. Theyimmediately engaged with great ardor in the work of building theirtown. Æneas had intended to have named it Troy, in commemoration ofthe ancient city now no more. But, in view of his approachingmarriage with Lavinia, he determined to change this design, and, inhonor of her, to name the new capital Lavinium. 

The territory which had been assigned to the Trojans by Latinus was inthe south-western part of Latium, near the coast, and of course it wason the confines of the country of the Rutulians. Turnus, when he leftLatium, went over to the Rutulians, determining, in his resentmentagainst Latinus for having given Lavinia to his rival, to join them inthe war. The Rutulians made him their leader, and he soon advanced atthe head of a great army across the frontier, toward the new city ofLavinium. Thus Æneas found himself threatened with a very formidabledanger. 

Nor was this all. For just before the commencement of the war withTurnus, an extraordinary train of circumstances occurred whichresulted in alienating the Latins themselves from their new ally, andin leaving Æneas consequently to sustain the shock of the contest withTurnus and his Rutulians alone. It would naturally be supposed thatthe alliance between Latinus and Æneas would not be very favorablyregarded by the common people of Latium. They would, on the otherhand, naturally look with much jealousy and distrust on a company offoreign intruders, admitted by what they would be very likely toconsider the capricious partiality of their king, to a share of theircountry. This jealousy and distrust was, for a time, suppressed andconcealed; but the animosity only acquired strength and concentrationby being restrained, and at length an event occurred which caused itto break forth with uncontrollable fury. The circumstances were these:

There was a man in Latium named Tyrrheus, who held the office of royalherdsman. He lived in his hut on some of the domains of Latinus, andhad charge of the flocks and herds belonging to the king. He had twosons, and likewise a daughter. The daughter's name was Sylvia. The twoboys had one day succeeded in making prisoner of a young stag, whichthey found in the woods with its mother. It was extremely young whenthey captured it, and they brought it home as a great prize. They fedit with milk until it was old enough to take other food, and as itgrew up accustomed to their hands, it was very tame and docile, andbecame a great favorite with all the family. Sylvia loved and playedwith it continually. She kept it always in trim by washing it in afountain, and combing and smoothing its hair, and she amused herselfby adorning it with wreaths, and garlands, and such other decorationsas her sylvan resources could command. 

[Illustration: SILVIA'S STAG. ]

One day when Ascanius, Æneas's son, who had now grown to be a youngman, and who seems to have been characterized by a full share of theardent and impulsive energy belonging to his years, was returning fromthe chase, he happened to pass by the place where the herdsman lived. Ascanius was followed by his dogs, and he had his bow and arrows inhis hand. As he was thus passing along a copse of wood, near a brook, the dogs came suddenly upon Sylvia's stag. The confiding animal, unconscious of any danger, had strayed away from the herdsman'sgrounds to this grove, and had gone down to the brook to drink. Thedogs immediately sprang upon him, in full cry. Ascanius followed, drawing at the same time an arrow from his quiver and fitting it tothe bow. As soon as he came in sight of the stag, he let fly hisarrow. The arrow pierced the poor fugitive in the side, and inflicteda dreadful wound. It did not, however, bring him down. The stagbounded on down the valley toward his home, as if to seek protectionfrom Sylvia. He came rushing into the house, marking his way withblood, ran to the covert which Sylvia had provided for hisresting-place at night, and crouching down there he filled the wholedwelling with piteous bleatings and cries. 

As soon as Tyrrheus, the father of Sylvia, and the two young men, herbrothers, knew who it was that had thus wantonly wounded theirfavorite, they were filled with indignation and rage. They went outand aroused the neighboring peasantry, who very easily caught thespirit of resentment and revenge which burned in the bosoms ofTyrrheus and his sons. They armed themselves with clubs, firebrands, scythes, and such other rustic weapons as came to hand, and rushedforth, resolved to punish the overbearing insolence of their foreignvisitors, in the most summary manner. 

In the mean time the Trojan youth, having heard the tidings of thisdisturbance, began to gather hastily, but in great numbers, to defendAscanius. The parties on both sides were headstrong, and highlyexcited; and before any of the older and more considerate chieftainscould interfere, a very serious conflict ensued. One of the sons ofTyrrheus was killed. He was pierced in the throat by an arrow, andfell and died immediately. His name was Almon. He was but a boy, or atall events had not yet arrived at years of maturity, and his prematureand sudden death added greatly to the prevailing excitement. Anotherman too was killed. At length the conflict was brought to an end forthe time but the excitement and the exasperation of the peasantry wereextreme. They carried the two dead bodies in procession to thecapital, to exhibit them to Latinus; and they demanded, in the mostearnest and determined manner, that he should immediately make warupon the whole Trojan horde, and drive them back into the sea, whencethey came. 

Latinus found it extremely difficult to withstand this torrent. Heremained firm for a time, and made every exertion in his power toquell the excitement and to pacify the minds of his people. But allwas in vain. Public sentiment turned hopelessly against the Trojans, and Æneas soon found himself shut up in his city, surrounded withenemies, and left to his fate. Turnus was the leader of these foes. 

He, however, did not despair. Both parties began to prepare vigorouslyfor war. Æneas himself went away with a few followers to some of theneighboring kingdoms, to get succor from them. Neighboring states arealmost always jealous of each other, and are easily induced to takepart against each other, when involved in foreign wars. Æneas foundseveral of the Italian princes who were ready to aid him, and hereturned to his camp with considerable reinforcements, and withpromises of more. The war soon broke out, and was waged for a longtime with great determination on both sides and with varied success. 

Latinus, who was now somewhat advanced in life, and had thus passedbeyond the period of ambition and love of glory, and who besides musthave felt that the interests of his family were now indissolubly boundup in those of Æneas and Lavinia, watched the progress of the contestwith a very uneasy and anxious mind. He found that for a time atleast it would be out of his power to do any thing effectual toterminate the war, so he allowed it to take its course, and contentedhimself with waiting patiently, in hopes that an occasion which wouldallow of his interposing with some hope of success, would sooner orlater come. 

Such an occasion did come; for after the war had been prosecuted forsome time it was found, that notwithstanding the disadvantages underwhich the Trojans labored, they were rather gaining than losingground. There were in fact some advantages as well as somedisadvantages in their position. They formed a compact andconcentrated body, while their enemies constituted a scatteredpopulation, spreading in a more or less exposed condition over aconsiderable extent of country. They had neither flocks nor herds, norany other property for their enemies to plunder, while the Rutuliansand Latins had great possessions, both of treasure in the towns and ofrural produce in the country, so that when the Trojans gained thevictory over them in any sally or foray, they always came home ladenwith booty, as well as exultant in triumph and pride; while if theLatins conquered the Trojans in a battle, they had nothing but theempty honor to reward them. The Trojans, too, were hardy, enduring, and indomitable. The alternative with them was victory or destruction. Their protracted voyage, and the long experience of hardships andsufferings which they had undergone, had inured them to privation andtoil, so that they proved to the Latins and Rutulians to be veryobstinate and formidable foes. 

At length, as usual in such cases, indications gradually appeared thatboth sides began to be weary of the contest. Latinus availed himselfof a favorable occasion which offered, to propose that embassadorsshould be sent to Æneas with terms of peace. Turnus was very muchopposed to any such plan. He was earnestly desirous of continuing toprosecute the war. The other Latin chieftains reproached him then withbeing the cause of all the calamities which they were enduring, andurged the unreasonableness on his part of desiring any longer toprotract the sufferings of his unhappy country, merely to gratify hisown private resentment and revenge. Turnus ought not any longer toask, they said, that others should fight in his quarrel; and theyproposed that he should himself decide the question between him andÆneas, by challenging the Trojan leader to fight him in single combat. 

Latinus strongly disapproved of this proposal. He was weary of war andbloodshed, and wished that the conflict might wholly cease; and heurged that peace should be made with Æneas, and that his originaldesign of giving him Lavinia for his wife should be carried intoexecution. For a moment Turnus seemed to hesitate, but in lookingtowards Lavinia who, with Amata her mother, was present at thisconsultation, he saw, or thought he saw, in the agitation which shemanifested, proofs of her love for him, and indications of a wish onher part that he and not Æneas should win her for his bride. 

He accordingly without any farther hesitation or delay agreed to theproposal of the counsellor. The challenge to single combat was givenand accepted, and on the appointed day the ground was marked out forthe duel, and both armies were drawn up upon the field, to bespectators of the fight. 

After the usual preparations the conflict began; but, as frequentlyoccurs in such cases, it was not long confined to the single pair ofcombatants with which it commenced. Others were gradually drawn in, and the duel became in the end a general battle. Æneas and the Trojanswere victorious, and both Latinus and Turnus were slain. This endedthe war. Æneas married Lavinia, and thenceforth reigned with her overthe kingdom of Latium as its rightful sovereign. 

Æneas lived several years after this, and has the credit, in history, of having managed the affairs of the kingdom in a very wise andprovident manner. He had brought with him from Troy the arts and thelearning of the Greeks, and these he introduced to his people so asgreatly to improve their condition. He introduced, too, manyceremonies of religious worship, which had prevailed in the countriesfrom which he had come, or in those which he had visited in his longvoyage. These ceremonies became at last so firmly established amongthe religious observances of the inhabitants of Latium, that theydescended from generation to generation, and in subsequent yearsexercised great influence, in modeling the religious faith and worshipof the Roman people. They thus continued to be practiced for manyages, and, through the literature of the Romans, became subsequentlyknown and celebrated throughout the whole civilized world. 

At length, in a war which Æneas was waging with the Rutulians, he wasonce, after a battle, reduced to great extremity of danger, and inorder to escape from his pursuers he attempted to swim across astream, and was drowned. The name of this stream was Numicius. Itflowed into the sea a little north of Lavinium. It must have beenlarger in former times than it is now, for travelers who visit it atthe present day say that it is now only a little rivulet, in which itwould be almost impossible for any one to be drowned. 

The Trojan followers of Æneas concealed his body, and spread the storyamong the people of Latium that he had been taken up to heaven. Thepeople accordingly, having before considered their king as the son ofa goddess, now looked upon him as himself divine. They accordinglyerected altars to him in Latium, and thenceforth worshiped him as aGod. 

CHAPTER VII. 

RHEA SILVIA. 

B. C. 800

Rhea Silvia. --The order of vestal virgins. --The ancientfocus. --Arrangement for fire. --Nature of the ceremonies instituted inhonor of Vesta. --Her vestal virgins. --Their duties. --Terrible punishmentfor those who violated their vows. --Similar observances in moderntimes. --Influence of the vestal institution. --Ceremonies. --Qualificationsof the candidate. --Term of service. --The sacred fire. --Punishment forneglect of duty. --Question in regard to the succession. --Origin of thename Silvius. --History of Ascanius. --His war with Mezentius. --TheTrojans victorious. --Settlement of the kingdom. --Lavinia recalled. --Thebuilding of Alba Longa. --Situation of Alba Longa. --The name. --Successorto Ascanius. --Perplexing question. --Settlement of thequestion. --Tiberinus. --The story of Alladius and his thunder. --Death ofAlladius. --Superstitions. --Numitor and Amulius. --Their respectivecharacters. --Division of their father's possessions. --Policy ofNumitor. --Death of Egestus. --Rhea enters upon her duties as a vestalvirgin. --Unexpected events announced. 

Rhea Silvia, the mother of Romulus, was a vestal virgin, who lived inthe kingdom of Latium about four hundred years after the death ofÆneas. A vestal virgin was a sort of priestess, who was required, likethe nuns of modern times, to live in seclusion from the rest of theworld, and devote their time wholly and without reserve to theservices of religion. They were, like nuns, especially prohibited fromall association and intercourse with men. 

Æneas himself is said to have founded the order of vestal virgins, andto have instituted the rites and services which were committed totheir charge. These rites and services were in honor of Vesta, who wasthe goddess of Home. The fireside has been, in all ages and countries, the center and the symbol of home, and the worship of Vesta consisted, accordingly, of ceremonies designed to dignify and exalt the firesidein the estimation of the people. Instead of the images and altarswhich were used in the worship of the other deities, a representationof a _fire-stand_ was made, such as were used in the houses of thosedays; and upon this sacred stand a fire was kept continually burning, and various rites and ceremonies were performed in connection with it, in honor of the domestic virtues and enjoyments, of which it was thetype and symbol. 

These fire-stands, as used by the ancients, were very different fromthe fire-places of modern times, which are recesses in chimneys withflues above for the passage of the smoke. The household fires of theancients were placed in the center of the apartment, on a hearth orsupporter called the _focus_. This hearth was made sometimes of stoneor brick, and sometimes of bronze. The smoke escaped above, throughopenings in the roof. This would seem, according to the ideas of thepresent day, a very comfortless arrangement; but it must be rememberedthat the climate in those countries was mild, and there wasaccordingly but little occasion for fire; and then, besides, such werethe habits of the people at this period of the world, that not onlytheir pursuits and avocations, but far the greater portion of theirpleasures, called them into the open air. Still, the fire-place was, with them as with us, the type and emblem of domestic life; andaccordingly, in paying divine honors to Vesta, the goddess of Home, they set up a _focus_, or fire-place, in her temple, instead of analtar, and in the place of sacrifices they simply kept burning upon ita perpetual fire. 

The priestesses who had charge of the fire were selected for thispurpose when they were children. It was required that they should befrom six to ten years of age. When chosen they were consecrated to theservice of Vesta by the most solemn ceremonies, and as virgins, werebound under awful penalties, to spotless purity of life. As theperpetual fire in the temple of Vesta represented the fire of thedomestic hearth, so these vestal virgins represented the maidens bywhom the domestic service of a household is performed; and the life ofseclusion and celibacy which was required of them was the emblem ofthe innocence and purity which the institution of the family isexpressly intended to guard. The duties of the vestals were analogousto those of domestic maidens. They were to watch the fire, and neverto allow it to go out. They were to perform various rites andceremonies connected with the worship of Vesta and to keep theinterior of the temple and the shrines pure and clean, and the sacredvessels and utensils arranged, as in a well-ordered household. In aword, they were to be, in purity, in industry, in neatness, in order, and in patience and vigilance, the perfect impersonation of maidenlyvirtue as exhibited in its own proper field of duty at home. 

The most awful penalties were visited upon the head of any vestalvirgin who was guilty of violating her vows. There is no directevidence what these penalties were at this early period, but insubsequent years, at Rome, where the vestal virgins resided, the manwho was guilty of enticing one of them away from her duty was publiclyscourged to death in the Roman forum. For the vestal herself, thus ledaway, a cell was dug beneath the ground, and vaulted over. A pit leddown to this subterranean dungeon, entering it by one side. In thedungeon itself there was placed a table, a lamp, and a little food. The descent was by a ladder which passed down through the pit. Theplace of this terrible preparation for punishment was near one of thegates of the city, and when all was ready the unhappy vestal wasbrought forth, at the head of a great public procession, --she herselfbeing attended by her friends and relatives, all mourning andlamenting her fate by the way. The ceremony, in a word, was in allrespects a funeral, except that the person who was to be buried wasstill alive. On arriving at the spot, the wretched criminal wasconducted down the ladder and placed upon the couch in the cell. Theassistants who performed this service then returned; the ladder wasdrawn up; earth was thrown in until the pit was filled; and the erringgirl was left to her fate, which was, when her lamp had burned out, and her food was expended, to starve by slow degrees, and die at lastin darkness and despair. 

If we would do full justice to the ancient founders of civilizationand empire, we should probably consider their enshrinement of Vesta, and the contriving of the ceremonies and observances which wereinstituted in honor of her, not as the setting up of an idol or falsegod, for worship, in the sense in which Christian nations worship thespiritual and eternal Jehovah--but rather as the embodiment of anidea, --a principle, --as the best means, in those rude ages, ofattracting to it the general regard. 

Even in our own days, and in Christian lands, men erect a pole inhonor of liberty, and surmount it with the image of a cap. And if, instead of the cap, they were to place a carved effigy of libertyabove, and to assemble for periodical celebrations below, with games, and music, and banners, we should not probably call them idolaters. SoChristian poets write odes and invocations to Peace, toDisappointment, to Spring, to Beauty, in which they impersonate anidea, or a principle, and address it in the language of adoration, asif it were a sentient being, possessing magical and mysterious powers. In the same manner, the rites and celebrations of ancient times arenot necessarily all to be considered as idolatry, and denounced asinexcusably wicked and absurd. Our fathers set up an image in honor ofliberty, to strengthen the influence of the love of liberty on thepopular mind. It is possible that Æneas looked upon the subject in thesame light, in erecting a public fireside in honor of domestic peaceand happiness, and in designating maidens to guard it with constantvigilance and with spotless purity. At all events, the institutionexercised a vast and an incalculable power, in impressing the minds ofmen, in those rude ages, with a sense of the sacredness of thedomestic tie, and in keeping before their minds a high standard, intheory at least, of domestic honor and purity. We must remember thatthey had not then the word of God, nor any means of communicating tothe minds of the people any general enlightenment and instruction. They were obliged, therefore, to resort to the next best method whichtheir ingenuity could devise. 

There were a great many very extraordinary rites and ceremoniesconnected with the service of the vestal altar, and many singularregulations for the conduct of it, the origin and design of which itwould now be very difficult to ascertain. As has already beenremarked, the virgins were chosen when very young, being, whendesignated to the office, not under six nor over ten years of age. They were chosen by the king, and it was necessary that the candidate, besides the above-named requisite in regard to age, should be in aperfect condition of soundness and health in respect to all her bodilylimbs and members, and also to the faculties of her mind. It wasrequired too that she should be the daughter of free and freebornparents, who had never been in slavery, and had never followed anymenial or degrading occupation; and also that both her parents shouldbe living. To be an orphan was considered, it seems, in some sense animperfection. 

The service of the vestal virgins continued for thirty years; and whenthis period had expired, the maidens were discharged from their vows, and were allowed, if they chose, to lay aside their vestal robes, andthe other emblems of their office, and return to the world, with theprivilege even of marrying, if they chose to do so. Though the lawshowever permitted this, there was a public sentiment against it, andit was seldom that any of the vestal priestesses availed themselves ofthe privilege. They generally remained after their term of service hadexpired, in attendance at the temple, and died as they had lived inthe service of the goddess. 

One of the chief functions of the virgins, in their service in thetemple, was to keep the sacred fire perpetually burning. This fire wasnever to go out, and if, by any neglect on the part of the vestal inattendance, this was allowed to occur, the guilty maiden was punishedterribly by scourging. The punishment was inflicted by the hands ofthe highest pontifical officer of the state. The laws of theinstitution however evinced their high regard for the purity andmodesty of the vestal maidens by requiring that the blows should beadministered in the dark, the sufferer having been previously preparedto receive them by being partially undressed by her female attendants. The extinguished fire was then rekindled with many solemn ceremonies. 

Rhea Silvia, the mother of Romulus, was, we repeat, a vestal virgin. She lived four hundred years after the death of Æneas. During thesefour centuries, the kingdom had been governed by the descendants ofÆneas, generally in a peaceful and prosperous manner, although somedifficulties occurred in the establishment of the successionimmediately after Æneas's death. It will be remembered that Æneas wasdrowned during the continuance of the war. He left one son, andperhaps others. The one who figured most conspicuously in thesubsequent history of the kingdom, was Ascanius, the son who hadaccompanied Æneas from Troy, and who had now attained to years ofmaturity. He, of course, on his father's death, immediately succeededhim. 

There was some question, however, whether, after all, Lavinia herselfwas not entitled to the kingdom. It was doubtful, according to thelaws and usages of those days, whether Æneas held the realm in his ownright, or as the husband of Lavinia, who was the daughter and heir ofLatinus, the ancient and legitimate king. Lavinia, however, seemed tohave no disposition to assert her claim. She was of a mild and gentlespirit; and, besides, her health was at that time such as to lead herto wish for retirement and repose. She even had some fears for herpersonal safety, not knowing but that Ascanius would be suspicious andjealous of her on account of her claims to the throne, and that hemight be tempted to do her some injury. Her husband had been her onlyprotector among the Trojans, and now, since he was no more, andanother, who was in some sense her rival, had risen to power, shenaturally felt insecure. She accordingly took the first opportunity toretire from Lavinium. She went away into the forests in the interiorof the country, with a very few attendants and friends, and concealedherself there in a safe retreat. The family that received andsheltered her was that of Tyrrheus, the chief of her father'sshepherds, whose children's stag Ascanius had formerly killed. Here, in a short time, she had a son. She determined to name him from hisfather; and in order to commemorate his having been born in the midstof the wild forest scenes which surrounded her at the time of hisbirth, she called him in full, Æneas of the woods, or, as it wasexpressed in the language which was then used in Latium, ÆneasSilvius. The boy, when he grew up, was always known by this name insubsequent history. 

And not only did he himself retain the name, but he transmitted it tohis posterity, for all the kings that afterward descended from him, extending in a long line through a period of four hundred years, hadthe word Silvius affixed to their names, in perpetual commemoration ofthe romantic birth of their ancestor. Rhea, the mother of Romulus, ofwhom we have already spoken, and of whom we shall presently haveoccasion to speak still more, was Rhea _Silvia_, by reason of herhaving been by birth a princess of this royal line. 

Ascanius, in the mean time, on the death of his father, was for a timeso engrossed in the prosecution of the war, that he paid but littleattention to the departure of Lavinia. The name of the king of theRutulians who fought against him was Mezentius. Mezentius had a sonnamed Lausus, and both father and son were personally serving in thearmy by which Ascanius was besieged in Lavinium. Mezentius had commandin the camp, at the head-quarters of the army, which was at somedistance from the city. Lausus headed an advanced guard, which hadestablished itself strongly at a post which they had taken near thegates. In this state of things, Ascanius, one dark and stormy night, planned a sortie. He organized a desperate body of followers, andafter watching the flashes of lightning for a time, to find omens fromthem indicating success, he gave the signal. The gates were opened andthe column of armed men sallied forth, creeping noiselessly forwardin the darkness and gloom, until they came to the encampment ofLausus. They fell upon this camp with an irresistible rush, and withterrific shouts and outcries. The whole detachment were taken entirelyby surprise, and great numbers were made prisoners or slain. Lausushimself was killed. 

Excited by their victory, the Trojan soldiers, headed by Ascanius, nowturned their course toward the main body of the Rutulian army. Mezentius had, however, in the mean time, obtained warning of theirapproach, and when they reached his camp he was ready to retreat. Hefled with all his forces toward the mountains. Ascanius and theTrojans followed him. Mezentius halted and attempted to fortifyhimself on a hill. Ascanius surrounded the hill, and soon compelledhis enemies to come to terms. A treaty was made, and Mezentius and hisforces soon after withdrew from the country, leaving Ascanius andLatium in peace. 

Ascanius then, after having in some degree settled his affairs, beganto think of Lavinia. In fact, the Latin portion of his subjectsseemed disposed to murmur and complain, at her having been compelledto withdraw from her own paternal kingdom, in order to leave thethrone to the occupancy of the son of a stranger. Some even fearedthat she had come to some harm, or that Ascanius might in the end puther to death when time had been allowed for the recollection of her topass in some degree from the minds of men. So the public begangenerally to call for Lavinia's return. 

Ascanius seems to have been well disposed to do justice in the case, for he not only sought out Lavinia and induced her to return to thecapital with her little son, but he finally concluded to give upLavinium to her entirely, as her own rightful dominion, while he wentaway and founded a new city for himself. He accordingly explored thecountry around for a favorable site, and at length decided upon a spotnearly north of Lavinium, and not many miles distant from it. Theplace which he marked out for the walls of the city was at the foot ofa mountain, on a tract of somewhat elevated ground, which formed oneof the lower declivities of it. The mountain, rising abruptly on oneside, formed a sure defense on that side: on the other side was asmall lake, of clear and pellucid water. In front, and somewhatbelow, there were extended plains of fertile land. Ascanius, afterhaving determined on this place as the site of his intended city, sethis men at work to make the necessary constructions. Some built thewalls of the city, and laid out streets and erected houses within. Others were employed in forming the declivity of the mountain aboveinto terraces, for the cultivation of the vine. The slopes which theythus graded had a southern exposure, and the grapes which subsequentlygrew there were luxurious and delicious in flavor. From the littlelake channels were cut leading over the plains below, and by thismeans a constant supply of water could be conveyed to the fields ofgrain which were to be sown there, for purposes of irrigation. Thusthe place which Ascanius chose furnished all possible facilities bothfor maintaining, and also for defending the people who were to make ittheir abode. The town was called Alba Longa, that is long Alba. It wascalled _long_ to distinguish it from another Alba. It was really longin its form, as the buildings extended for a considerable distancealong the border of the lake. 

Ascanius reigned over thirty years at Alba Longa, while Laviniareigned at Lavinium, each friendly to the other and governing thecountry at large, together, in peace and harmony. In process of timeboth died. Ascanius left a son whose name was Iulus, while ÆneasSilvius was Lavinia's heir. 

There was, of course, great diversity of opinion throughout the nationin regard to the comparative claims of these two princes, respectively. Some maintained that Æneas the Trojan became, byconquest, the rightful sovereign of Latium, irrespective of any rightsthat he acquired through his marriage with Lavinia, and that Iulus, asthe son of his eldest son, rightfully succeeded him. Others contendedthat Lavinia represented the ancient and the truly legitimate royalline, and that Æneas Silvius, as her son and heir, ought to be placedupon the throne. And there were those who proposed to compromise thequestion, by dividing Latium into two separate kingdoms, giving up onepart to Iulus, with Alba Longa for its capital, and the other, withLavinium for its capital, to Æneas Silvius, Lavinia's heir. Thisproposition was, however, overruled. The two kingdoms, thus formedwould be small and feeble, it was thought, and unable to defendthemselves against the other Italian nations in case of war. Thequestion was finally settled by a different sort of compromise. It wasagreed that Latium should retain its integrity, and that ÆneasSilvius, being the son both of Æneas and Lavinia, and thusrepresenting both branches of the reigning power, should be the king, while Iulus and his descendants forever, should occupy the position, scarcely less inferior, of sovereign power in matters of religion. Æneas Silvius, therefore, and his descendants, became _kings_, and assuch commanded the armies and directed the affairs of state, whileIulus and his family were exalted, in connection with them, to thehighest pontifical dignities. 

This state of things, once established, continued age after age, andcentury after century, for about four hundred years. No records, andvery few traditions in respect to what occurred during this periodremain. One circumstance, however, took place which caused itself tobe remembered. There was one king in the line of the Silvii, whosename was Tiberinus. In one of his battles with the armies of thenation adjoining him on the northern side, he attempted to swim acrossthe river that formed the frontier. He was forced down by the current, and was seen no more. By the accident, however, he gave the name ofTiber to the stream, and thus perpetuated his own memory through thesubsequent renown of the river in which he was drowned. Before thistime the river was called the Albula. 

Another incident is related, which is somewhat curious, asillustrating the ideas and customs of the times. One of this Silvianline of sovereigns was named Alladius. This Alladius conceived theidea of making the people believe that he was a god, and in order toaccomplish this end he resorted to the contrivance of imitating, byartificial means, the sound of the rumbling of thunder and the flashesof lightning at night from his palace on the banks of the lake at AlbaLonga. He employed, probably, for this purpose some means similar tothose resorted to for the same end in theatrical spectacles at thepresent day. The people, however were not deceived by this imposture, though they soon after fell into an error nearly as absurd asbelieving in this false thunder would have been; for, on an occasionwhich occurred not long afterward, probably that of a great stormaccompanied with torrents of rain upon the mountains around, the lakerose so high as to produce an inundation, in which the water brokeinto the palace, and the pretended thunderer was drowned. The peopleconsidered that he was destroyed thus by the special interposition ofheaven, to punish him for his impiety in daring to assume what wasthen considered the peculiar attribute and prerogative of supremedivinity. In fact, the rumor circulated, and one historian hasrecorded it as true, that Alladius was struck by the lightning whichaccompanied the storm, and thus killed at once by the terrible agencywhich he had presumed to counterfeit, before the inundation of thepalace came on. If he met his death in any sudden and unusual manner, it is not at all surprising that his fate should have been attributedto the judgment of God, for thunder was regarded in those days with anextreme and superstitious veneration and awe. All this is, however, now changed. Men have learned to understand thunder, and to protectthemselves from its power; and now, since Franklin and Morse havecommenced the work of subduing the potent and mysterious agent inwhich it originates, to the human will, the presumption is not verystrong against the supposition that the time may come when humanscience may actually produce it in the sky--as it is now produced, ineffect, upon the lecturer's table. 

At last, toward the close of the four hundred years during which thedynasty of the Silvii continued to reign over Latium, a certainmonarch of the series died, leaving two children, Numitor and Amulius. Numitor was the eldest son, and as such entitled to succeed hisfather. But he was of a quiet and somewhat inefficient disposition, while his younger brother was ardent and ambitious, and very likely toaspire to the possession of power. The father, it seems, anticipatedthe possibility of dissension between his sons after his death, and inorder to do all in his power to guard against it, he endeavored toarrange and settle the succession before he died. In the course of thenegotiations which ensued, Amulius proposed that his father'spossessions should be divided into two portions, the kingdom toconstitute one, and the wealth and treasures the other, and thatNumitor should choose which portion he would have. This proposalseemed to have the appearance, at least, of reasonableness andimpartiality; and it would have been really very reasonable, if theright to the inheritance thus disposed of, had belonged equally to theyounger and to the elder son. But it did not. And thus the offer ofAmulius was, in effect, a proposition to divide with himself thatwhich really belonged wholly to his brother. 

Numitor, however, who, it seems, was little disposed to contend forhis rights, agreed to this proposal. He, however, chose the kingdom, and left the wealth for his brother; and the inheritance wasaccordingly thus divided on the death of the father. But Amulius, assoon as he came into possession of his treasures, began to employ themas a means of making powerful friends, and strengthening his politicalinfluence. In due time he usurped the throne, and Numitor, giving upthe contest with very little attempt to resist the usurpation, fledand concealed himself in some obscure place of retreat. He had, however, two children, a son and a daughter, which he left behind himin his flight. Amulius feared that these children might, at somefuture time, give him trouble, by advancing claims as their father'sheirs. He did not dare to kill them openly, for fear of exciting thepopular odium against himself. He was obliged, therefore, to resort tostratagem. 

The son, whose name was Egestus, he caused to be slain at a huntingparty, by employing remorseless and desperate men to shoot him, in theheat of the chase, with arrows, or thrust him through with a spear, watching their opportunity for doing this at a moment when they werenot observed, or when it might appear to be an accident. The daughter, whose name was Rhea--the Rhea Silvia named at the commencement of thischapter--he could not well actually destroy, without being known to beher murderer; and perhaps too, he had enough remaining humanity to beunwilling to shed the blood of a helpless and beautiful maiden, thedaughter, too, of his own brother. Then, besides, he had a daughter ofhis own named Antho, who was the playmate and companion of Rhea, andwith whose affection for her cousin he must have felt some sympathy. He would not, therefore, destroy the child, but contented himselfwith determining to make her a vestal virgin. By this means she wouldbe solemnly set apart to a religious service, which would incapacitateher from aspiring to the throne; and by being cut off, by her vestalvows, from all possibility of forming any domestic ties, she couldnever, he thought, have any offspring to dispute his claim to thethrone. 

There was nothing very extraordinary in this consecration of hisniece, princess as she was, to the service of the vestal fire; for ithad been customary for children of the highest rank to be designatedto this office. The little Rhea, for she was yet a child when heruncle took this determination in respect to her, made, as wouldappear, no objection to what she perhaps considered a distinguishedhonor. The ceremonies, therefore, of her consecration were dulyperformed; she took the vows, and bound herself by the most awfulsanctions--unconscious, however, perhaps, herself of what she wasdoing--to lead thenceforth a life of absolute celibacy and seclusion. 

She was then received into the temple of Vesta, and there, with theother maidens who had been consecrated before her, she devotedherself to the discharge of the duties of her office, withoutreproach, for several years. At length, however, certain circumstancesoccurred, which suddenly terminated Rhea's career as a vestal virgin, and led to results of the most momentous character. What thesecircumstances were, will be explained in the next chapter. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE TWINS. 

B. C. 774-755

The temple of Mars at Alba. --Its situation. --Rhea's fault. --Herexcuse. --The wolf story. --Rhea in trouble. --Birth of hersons. --Antho. --The anger of Amulius. --Rhea imprisoned. --Faustulus. --Hisplan. --The box that he made. --He follows the stream. --The childrenthrown out upon the sand. --The wolf. --The woodpecker. --The childrenrescued by Faustulus. --He carries the children home. --Theireducation. --The character of the boys. --Romulus and Remus are generousand brave. --Quarrel among the herdsmen. --Remus is suddenly madeprisoner. --Heavy charges against Remus. --Remus before Numitor andAmulius. --Remus gives an account of himself. --Numitor learns thetruth. --Romulus. --Romulus plans a rebellion. --Faustulus and thearts. --Faustulus stopped at the gates of the city. --Faustulus is greatlyembarrassed. --Amulius is alarmed. --He sends for Numitor. --Romulusassaults the city. --The revolt is successful. --Amulius is slain. 

Although the temple of Vesta itself, at Alba Longa, was the principalscene of the duties which devolved upon the vestal virgins, still theywere not wholly confined in their avocations to that sacred edifice, but were often called upon, one or two at a time, to perform services, or to assist in the celebration of rites, at other places in the cityand vicinity. 

[Illustration: RHEA SILVIA. ]

There was a temple consecrated to Mars near to Alba. It was situatedin an opening in the woods, in some little glen or valley at the baseof the mountain. There was a stream of water running through theground, and Rhea in the performance of her duties as a vestal wasrequired at one time to pass to and fro through the groves in thissolitary place to fetch water. Here she allowed herself, in violationof her vestal vows, to form the acquaintance of a man, whom she met inthe groves. She knew well that by doing so she made herself subjectto the most dreadful penalties in case her fault should become known. Still she yielded to the temptation, and allowed herself to bepersuaded to remain with the stranger. She said afterward, when thefacts were brought to light, that her meeting with this companion waswholly unintentional on her part. She saw a wolf in the grove, shesaid, and she ran terrified into a cave to escape from him, and thatthe man came to her there, to protect her, and then compelled her toremain with him. Besides, from his dress, and countenance, and air, she had believed him, she said, to be the God Mars himself, andthought that it was not her duty to resist his will. 

However this may be, her stolen interview or interviews with thisstranger were not known at the time, and Rhea perhaps thought that herfault would never be discovered. Some weeks after this, however, itwas observed by her companions and friends that she began to appearthoughtful and depressed. Her dejection increased day by day; her facebecame wan and pale, and her eyes were often filled with tears. Theyasked her what was the cause of her trouble. She said that she wassick. She was soon afterward excused from her duties in the Vestaltemple, and went away, and remained for some time shut up inretirement and seclusion. There at length two children, twins, wereborn to her. 

It was only through the influence of Antho, Rhea's cousin, that theunhappy vestal was not put to death by Amulius, before her childrenwere born, at the time when her fault was first discovered. The lawsof the State in respect to vestal virgins, which were inexorablysevere, would have justified him in causing her to be executed atonce, but Antho interceded so earnestly for her unhappy cousin, thatAmulius for a time spared her life. When, however, her sons were born, the anger of Amulius broke out anew. If she had remained childless hewould probably have allowed her to live, though she could of coursenever have been restored to her office in the temple of Vesta. Or ifshe had given birth to a daughter she might have been pardoned, sincea daughter, on account of her sex, would have been little likely todisturb Amulius in the possession of the kingdom. But the existence oftwo sons, born directly in the line of the succession, and each ofthem having claims superior to his own, endangered, most imminently, he perceived, his possession of power. He was of course greatlyenraged. 

He caused Rhea to be shut up in close imprisonment, and as for theboys, he ordered them to be thrown into the Tiber. The Tiber was atsome considerable distance from Alba; but it was probably near theplace where Rhea had resided in her retirement, and where the childrenwere born. 

A peasant of that region was intrusted with the task of throwing thechildren into the river. Whether his official duty in undertaking thiscommission required him actually to drown the boys, or whether he wasallowed to give the helpless babes some little chance for their lives, is not known. At all events he determined that in committing thechildren to the stream he would so arrange it that they should floataway from his sight, in order that he might not himself be a witnessof their dying struggles and cries. He accordingly put them upon aspecies of float that he made, --a sort of box or trough, as would seemfrom the ancient descriptions, which he had hollowed out from alog, --and disposing their little limbs carefully within this narrowreceptacle, he pushed the frail boat, with its navigators still morefrail, out upon the current of the river. 

[Illustration: FAUSTULUS AND THE TWINS. ]

The name of the peasant who performed this task was Faustulus. Thepeasant also who subsequently, --as will hereafter appear, --found andtook charge of the children, is spoken of by the ancient historians asFaustulus, too. In fact we might well suppose that no man, howeverrustic and rude, could give his time and his thoughts to two suchbabes long enough to make an ark for them, for the purpose of makingit possible to save their lives, and then place them carefully in itto send them away, without becoming so far interested in their fate, and so touched by their mute and confiding helplessness, as to feelprompted to follow the stream to see how so perilous a navigationwould end. We have, however, no direct evidence that Faustulus did sowatch the progress of his boat down the river. The story is that itwas drifted along, now whirling in eddies, and now shooting down overrapid currents, until at last, at a bend in the river, it was thrownupon the beach, and being turned over by the concussion, the childrenwere rolled out upon the sand. 

The neighboring thickets soon of course resounded with their plaintivecries. A mother wolf who was sleeping there came out to see what wasthe matter. Now a mother, of whatever race, is irresistibly drawn byan _instinct_, if incapable of a _sentiment_, of affection, to loveand to cherish any thing that is newly born. The wolf caressed thehelpless babes, imagining perhaps that they were her own offspring;and lying down by their side she cherished and fed them, watching allthe time with a fierce and vigilant eye for any approaching enemy ordanger. The rude nursery might very naturally be supposed to be indangerous proximity to the water, but it happened that the river, whenthe babes were set adrift in it, was very high, from the effect ofrains upon the mountains, and thus soon after the children were thrownupon the land, the water began to subside. In a short time it whollyreturned to its accustomed channel, leaving the children on the warmsand, high above all danger. The wolf was not their only guardian. Awoodpecker, the tradition says, watched over them too, and broughtthem berries and other sylvan food. The reader will perhaps bedisposed to hesitate a little in receiving this last statement forsober history, but as no part of the whole narrative will bear anyvery rigid scrutiny, we may as well take the story of the woodpeckeralong with the rest. 

In a short time the children were rescued from their exposed situationby a shepherd, who is called Faustulus, and may or may not have beenthe same with the Faustulus by whom they had been exposed. Faustuluscarried the children to his hut; and there the maternal attentions ofthe wolf and the woodpecker were replaced by those of the shepherd'swife. Her name was Larentia. Faustulus was one of Amulius's herdsmen, having the care of the flocks and herds that grazed on this part ofthe royal domain, but living, like any other shepherd, in greatseclusion, in his hut in the forests. He not only rescued thechildren, but he brought home and preserved the trough in which theyhad been floated down the river. He put this relic aside, thinkingthat the day might perhaps come in which there would be occasion toproduce it. He told the story of the children only to a very fewtrustworthy friends, and he accompanied the communication, in thecases where he made it, with many injunctions of secrecy. He named thefoundlings Romulus and Remus, and as they grew up they passedgenerally for the shepherd's sons. 

Faustulus felt a great degree of interest, and a high sense ofresponsibility too, in having these young princes under his care. Hetook great pains to protect them from all possible harm, and toinstruct them in every thing which it was in those days consideredimportant for young men to know. It is even said that he sent them toa town in Latium where there was some sort of seminary of learning, that their minds might receive a proper intellectual culture. As theygrew up they were both handsome in form and in countenance, and werecharacterized by a graceful dignity of air and demeanor, which madethem very attractive in the eyes of all who beheld them. They wereprominent among the young herdsmen and hunters of the forest, fortheir courage, their activity, their strength, their various personalaccomplishments, and their high and generous qualities of mind. Romulus was more silent and thoughtful than his brother, and seemed topossess in some respects superior mental powers. Both were regarded byall who knew them with feelings of the highest respect andconsideration. 

Romulus and Remus treated their own companions and equals, that is theyoung shepherds and herdsmen of the mountains, with great courtesy andkindness, and were very kindly regarded by them in return. They, however, evinced a great degree of independence of spirit in respectto the various bailiffs and chief herdsmen, and other officers offield and forest police, who exercised authority in the region wherethey lived. These men were sometimes haughty and domineering, and thepeasantry in general stood greatly in awe of them. Romulus and Remus, however, always faced them without fear, never seeming to be alarmedat their threats, or at any other exhibitions of their anger. In fact, the boys seemed to be imbued with a native loftiness and fearlessnessof character, as if they had inherited a spirit of confidence andcourage with their royal blood, or had imbibed a portion of theindomitable temper of their fierce foster mother. 

They were generous, however, as well as brave. They took the part ofthe weak and the oppressed against the tyrannical and the strong inthe rustic contentions that they witnessed; they interposed to helpthe feeble, to relieve those who were in want, and to protect thedefenseless. They hunted wild beasts, they fought against robbers, they rescued and saved the lost. For amusements, they practicedrunning, wrestling, racing, throwing javelins and spears, and otherathletic feats and accomplishments--in every thing excelling all theircompetitors, and becoming in the end greatly renowned. 

Numitor, the father of Rhea Silvia, whom Amulius had dethroned andbanished from Alba, was all this time still living; and he had now atlength become so far reconciled to Amulius as to be allowed to residein Alba--though he lived there as a private citizen. He owned, itseems, some estates near the Tiber, where he had flocks and herds thatwere tended by his shepherds and herdsmen. It happened at one timethat some contention arose between the herdsmen of Numitor and thoseof Amulius, among whom Romulus and Remus were residing. Now as theyoung men had thus far, of course, no idea whatever of theirrelationship to Numitor, there was no reason why they should feel anyspecial interest in his affairs, and they accordingly, as mightnaturally have been expected, took part with Amulius in this quarrel, since Faustulus, and all the shepherds around them were on that side. The herdsmen of Numitor in the course of the quarrel drove away someof the cattle which were claimed as belonging to the herdsmen ofAmulius. Romulus and Remus headed a band which they hastily calledtogether, to pursue the depredators and bring the cattle back. Theysucceeded in this expedition, and recaptured the herd. This incensedthe party of Numitor, and they determined on revenge. 

They waited some time for a favorable opportunity. At length the timecame for celebrating a certain festival called the Supercalia, whichconsisted of very rude games and ceremonies, in which men sacrificedgoats, and then dressed themselves partially in the skins, and ranabout whipping every one whom they met, with thongs made likewise ofthe skins of goats, or of rabbits, or other animals remarkable fortheir fecundity. The meaning of the ceremonies, so far as such uncouthand absurd ceremonies could have any meaning, was to honor the God offertility and fruitfulness, and to promote the fruitfulness of theirflocks and herds, during the year ensuing at the time that thecelebrations were held. 

The retainers and partisans of Numitor determined on availingthemselves of this opportunity to accomplish their object. Accordingly, they armed themselves, and coming suddenly upon the spotwhere the shepherds of Amulius were celebrating the games, they made arush for Remus, who was at that time, in accordance with the custom, running to and fro, half-naked, and armed only with goat-skin thongs. They succeeded in making him prisoner, and bore him away in triumph toNumitor. 

Of course, this daring act produced great excitement throughout thecountry. Numitor was well pleased with the prize that he had secured, but felt, at the same time, some fear of the responsibility which heincurred by holding the prisoner. He was strongly inclined to proceedagainst Remus, and punish him himself for the offenses which theherdsmen of his lands charged against him; but he finally concludedthat this would not be safe, and he determined, in the end, to referthe case to Amulius for decision. He accordingly sent Remus toAmulius, making grievous charges against him, as a lawless desperado, who, with his brother, Numitor said, were the terror of the forests, through their domineering temper and their acts of robbery and rapine. 

The king, pleased, perhaps, with the spirit of deference to his regalauthority on the part of his brother, implied in the referring of thecase of the accused to him for trial, sent Remus back again toNumitor, saying that Numitor might punish the freebooter himself inany way that he thought best. Remus was accordingly brought again toNumitor's house. In the mean time, the fact of his being thus made aprisoner, and charged with crime, and the proceedings in relation tohim, in sending him back and forth between Amulius and Numitor, strongly attracted public attention. Every one was talking of theprisoner, and discussing the question of his probable fate. Thegeneral interest which was thus awakened in respect to him and to hisbrother Romulus, revived the slumbering recollections in the minds ofthe old neighbors of Faustulus, of the stories which he had told themof his having found the twins on the bank of the river, in theirinfancy. They told this story to Romulus, and he or some other friendsmade it known to Remus while he was still confined. 

When Remus was brought before Numitor--who was really his grandfather, though the fact of this relationship was wholly unknown to both ofthem--Numitor was exceedingly struck with his handsome countenance andform, and with his fearless and noble demeanor. The young prisonerseemed perfectly self-possessed and at his ease; and though he knewwell that his life was at stake, there was a certain air of calmnessand composure in his manner which seemed to denote very loftyqualities, both of person and mind. 

A vague recollection of the lost children of his daughter Rheaimmediately flashed across Numitor's mind. It changed all his angeragainst Remus to a feeling of wondering interest and curiosity, andgave to his countenance, as he looked upon his prisoner, an expressionof kind and tender regard. After a short pause Numitor addressed theyoung captive--speaking in a gentle and conciliating manner--and askedhim who he was, and who his parents were. 

"I will frankly tell you all that I know, " said Remus, "since youtreat me in so fair and honorable a manner. The king delivered me upto be punished, without listening to what I had to say, but you seemwilling to hear before you condemn. My name is Remus, and I have atwin-brother named Romulus. We have always supposed ourselves to bethe children of Faustulus; but now, since this difficulty hasoccurred, we have heard new tidings in respect to our origin. We aretold that we were found in our infancy, on the shore of the river, atthe place where Faustulus lives, and that near by there was a box ortrough, in which we had been floated down to the spot from a placeabove. When Faustulus found us, there was a wolf and a woodpeckertaking care of us and bringing us food. Faustulus carried us to hishouse, and brought us up as his children. He preserved the trough, too, and has it now. "

Numitor was, of course, greatly excited at hearing this intelligence. He perceived at once that the finding of these children, both inrespect to time and place, and to all the attendant circumstances, corresponded so precisely with the exposure of the children of RheaSilvia as to leave no reasonable ground for doubt that Romulus andRemus were his grandsons. He resolved immediately to communicate thisjoyful discovery to his daughter, if he could contrive the means ofgaining access to her; for during all this time she had been kept inclose confinement in her prison. 

In the mean time, Romulus himself, at the house of Faustulus, in theforests, had become greatly excited by the circumstances in which hefound himself placed. He had been first very much incensed at thecapture of Remus, and while concerting with Faustulus plans forrescuing him, Faustulus had explained to him the mystery of his birth. He had informed him not only how he was found with his brother, on thebank of the river, but also had made known to him whose sons he andRemus were. Romulus was, of course, extremely elated at thisintelligence. His native courage and energy were quickened anew by hislearning that he and his brother were princes, and as he believed, rightfully entitled to the throne. He immediately began to form plansfor raising a rebellion against the government of Amulius, with a viewof first rescuing Remus from his power, and afterward taking suchulterior steps as circumstances might require. 

Faustulus, on the other hand, leaving Romulus to raise the forces forhis insurrection as he pleased, determined to go himself to Numitorand reveal the secret of the birth of Romulus and Remus to him. Inorder to confirm and corroborate his story, he took the trough withhim, carrying it under his cloak, in order to conceal it from view, and in this manner made his appearance at the gates of Alba. 

There was something in his appearance and manner when he arrived atthe gate, which attracted the attention of the officers on guardthere. He wore the dress of a countryman, and had obviously come infrom the forests, a long way; and there was something in his airwhich denoted hurry and agitation. The soldiers asked him what he hadunder his cloak, and compelled him to produce the ark to view. Thecuriosity of the guardsmen was still more strongly aroused at seeingthis old relic. It was bound with brass bands, and it had some rudeinscription marked upon it. It happened that one of the guard was anold soldier who had been in some way connected with the exposure ofthe children of Rhea when they were set adrift in the river, and heimmediately recognized this trough as the float which they had beenplaced in. He immediately concluded that some very extraordinarymovement was going on, --and he determined to proceed forthwith andinform Amulius of what he had discovered. He accordingly went to theking and informed him that a man had been intercepted at the gate ofthe city, who was attempting to bring in, concealed under his cloak, the identical ark or float, which to his certain knowledge had beenused in the case of the children of Rhea Silvia, for sending themadrift on the waters of the Tiber. 

The king was greatly excited and agitated at receiving thisintelligence. He ordered Faustulus to be brought into his presence. Faustulus was much terrified at receiving this summons. He had butlittle time to reflect what to say, and during the few minutes thatelapsed while they were conducting him into the presence of the king, he found it hard to determine how much it would be best for him toadmit, and how much to deny. Finally, in answer to the interrogationsof the king, he acknowledged that he found the children and the ark inwhich they had been drifted upon the shore, and that he had saved theboys alive, and had brought them up as his children. He said, however, that he did not know where they were. They had gone away, he alledged, some years before, and were now living as shepherds in some distantpart of the country, he did not know exactly where. 

Amulius then asked Faustulus what he had been intending to do with thetrough, which he was bringing so secretly into the city. Faustulussaid that he was going to carry it to Rhea in her prison, she havingoften expressed a strong desire to see it, as a token or memorialwhich would recall the dear babes that had lain in it very vividly toher mind. 

Amulius seemed satisfied that these statements were honest and true, but they awakened in his mind a very great solicitude and anxiety. Hefeared that the children, being still alive, might some day come tothe knowledge of their origin, and so disturb his possession of thethrone, and perhaps revenge, by some dreadful retaliation, the wrongsand injuries which he had inflicted upon their mother and theirgrandfather. The people, he feared, would be very much inclined totake part with them, and not with him, in any contest which mightarise; for their sympathies were already on the side of Numitor. In aword, he was greatly alarmed, and he was much at a loss to know whatto do, to avert the danger which was impending over him. 

He concluded to send to Numitor and inquire of him whether he wasaware that the boys were still alive, and if so, if he knew where theywere to be found. He accordingly sent a messenger to his brother, commissioned to make these inquiries. This messenger, though in theservice of Amulius, was really a friend to Numitor, and on beingadmitted to Numitor's presence, when he went to make the inquiries asdirected by the king, he found Remus there, --though not, as he hadexpected, in the attitude of a prisoner awaiting sentence from ajudge, but rather in that of a son in affectionate consultation withhis father. He soon learned the truth, and immediately expressed hisdetermination to espouse the cause of the prince. "The whole city willbe on your side, " said he to Remus. "You have only to place yourselfat the head of the population, and proclaim your rights; and you willeasily be restored to the possession of them. "

Just at this crisis a tumult was heard at the gates of the city. Romulus had arrived there at the head of the band of peasants andherdsmen that he had collected in the forests. These insurgents wererudely armed and were organized in a very simple and primitive manner. For weapons the peasants bore such implements of agriculture as couldbe used for weapons, while the huntsmen brought their pikes, andspears, and javelins, and such other projectiles as were employed inthose days in hunting wild beasts. The troop was divided intocompanies of one hundred, and for banners they bore tufts of grass onwisps of straw, or fern, or other herbage, tied at the top of a pole. The armament was rude, but the men were resolute and determined, andthey made their appearance at the gates of the city upon the outside, just in time to co-operate with Remus in the rebellion which he hadraised within. 

The revolt was successful. A revolt is generally successful against adespot, when the great mass of the population desire his downfall. Amulius made a desperate attempt to stem the torrent, but his hour hadcome. His palace was stormed, and he was slain. The revolution wascomplete, and Romulus and Remus were masters of the country. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE FOUNDING OF ROME. 

B. C. 754

The people of Alba Longa called together. --The address of Numitor tothe citizens. --Romulus and Remus come forward. --Plan for building a newcity. --Numitor is to render the necessary aid. --Great numbers flocktogether to build the city. --The seven hills. --The Palatinehill. --Difference of opinion between Romulus and Remus. --Advantages ofthe Aventine hill. --Perfect equality of the two brothers. --Bothdetermined not to yield. --The brothers appeal to Numitor. --Hisproposal. --The vultures of the Appenines. --Their function. --Powers ofthe vulture. --Auguries. --Romulus and Remus take theirstations. --Result. --New dispute. --An open collision. --Faustuluskilled. --Romulus is victorious. --The building of the city goeson. --Plowing the pomœrium. --Form of the enclosure. --The death ofRemus. --The institution of the Lemuria. --Description of theceremonies. --The black beans. --State of Rome after the death ofRemus. --The story of Celer. --Probable explanation of it. 

As soon as the excitement and the agitations which attended the suddenrevolution by which Amulius was dethroned were in some measure calmed, and tranquillity was restored, the question of the mode in which thenew government should be settled, arose. Numitor considered it bestthat he should call an assembly of the people and lay the subjectbefore them. There was a very large portion of the populace who yetknew nothing certain in respect to the causes of the extraordinaryevents that had occurred. The city was filled with strange rumors, inall of which truth and falsehood were inextricably mingled, so thatthey increased rather than allayed the general curiosity and wonder. 

Numitor accordingly convened a general assembly of the inhabitants ofAlba, in a public square. The rude and rustic mountaineers andpeasants whom Romulus had brought to the city came with the rest. Romulus and Remus themselves did not at first appear. Numitor, whenthe audience was assembled, came forward to address them. He gave thema recital of all the events connected with the usurpation of Amulius. He told them of the original division which had been made thirty orforty years before, of the kingdom and the estates of his father, between Amulius and himself, --of the plans and intrigues by whichAmulius had contrived to possess himself of the kingdom and reducehim, Numitor, into subjection to his sway, --of his causing Egestus, Numitor's son, to be slain in the hunting party, and then compellinghis little daughter Rhea to become a vestal virgin in order that shemight never be married. He then went on to describe the birth ofRomulus and Remus, the anger of Amulius when informed of the event, his cruel treatment of the children and of the mother, and his ordersthat the babes should be drowned in the Tiber. He gave an account ofthe manner in which the infants had been put into the little woodenark, of their floating down the stream, and finally landing on thebank, and of their being rescued, protected and fed, by the wolf andthe woodpecker. He closed his speech by saying that the young princeswere still alive, and that they were then at hand ready to presentthemselves before the assembly. 

As he said these words, Romulus and Remus came forward, and the vastassembly, after gazing for a moment in silent wonder upon their talland graceful forms, in which they saw combined athletic strength andvigor with manly beauty, they burst into long and loud acclamations. As soon as the applause had in some measure subsided, Romulus andRemus turned to their grandfather and hailed him king. The peopleresponded to this announcement with new plaudits, and Numitor wasuniversally recognized as the rightful sovereign. 

It seems that notwithstanding the personal graces and accomplishmentsof Romulus and Remus, and their popularity among their fellowforesters, that they and their followers made a somewhat rude and wildappearance in the city, and Numitor was very willing, when the stateof things had become somewhat settled, that his rustic auxiliariesshould find some occasion for withdrawing from the capital andreturning again to their own native fastnesses. Romulus and Remus, however, having now learned that they were entitled to the regal name, naturally felt desirous of possessing a little regal power, and thusdesired to remain in the city; while still they had too muchconsideration for their grandfather to wish to deprive him of thegovernment. After some deliberation a plan was devised which promisedto gratify the wishes of all. 

The plan was this, namely, that Numitor should set apart a place inhis kingdom of Latium where Romulus and Remus might build a city forthemselves, --taking with them to the spot the whole horde of theirretainers. The place which he designated for this purpose was the spoton the banks of the Tiber where the two children had been landed whenfloating down the stream. It was a wild and romantic region, and theenterprise of building a city upon it was one exactly suited to engagethe attention and occupy the powers of such restless spirits as thosewho had collected under the young princes' standard. Many of thesemen, it is true, were shepherds and herdsmen, well disposed in mind, though rude and rough in manners. But then there were many others ofa very turbulent and unmanageable character, outlaws, fugitives, andadventurers of every description, who had fled to the woods to escapepunishment for former crimes, or seek opportunities for the commissionof new deeds of rapine and robbery; and who had seized upon theoccasion furnished by the insurrection against Amulius to come forthinto the world again. Criminals always flock into armies when armiesare raised; for war presents to the wicked and depraved all thecharms, with but half the danger, of a life of crime. War is in factordinarily only a legal organization of crime. 

Romulus and Remus entered into their grandfather's plan with greatreadiness. Numitor promised to aid them in their enterprise by everymeans in his power. He was to furnish tools and implements, forexcavations and building, and artisans so far as artisans wererequired, and was also to provide such temporary supplies ofprovisions and stores as might be required at the outset of theundertaking. He gave permission also to any of his subjects to joinRomulus and Remus in their undertaking, and they, in order to increasetheir numbers as much as possible, sent messengers around to theneighboring country inviting all who were disposed, to come and takepart in the building of the new city. This invitation was accepted bygreat numbers of people, from every rank and station in life. 

Of course, however, the greater portion of those who came to join theenterprise, were of a very low grade in respect to moral character. Men of industry, integrity, and moral worth, who possessed kind heartsand warm domestic affections, were generally well and prosperouslysettled each in his own hamlet or town, and were little inclined tobreak away from the ties which bound them to friends and society, inorder to plunge in such a scene of turmoil and confusion as thebuilding of a new city, under such circumstances, must necessarily be. It was of course generally the discontented, the idle, and the bad, that would hope for benefit from such a change as this enterpriseproposed to them. Every restless and desperate spirit, every depravedvictim of vice, every fugitive and outlaw would be ready to embark insuch a scheme, which was to create certainly a new phase in theirrelations to society, and thus afford them an opportunity to make afresh beginning. The enterprise at the same time seemed to offer them, through a new organization and new laws, some prospect of release fromresponsibility for former crimes. In a word, in preparing to lay thefoundations of their city, Romulus and Remus found themselves at thehead of a very wild and lawless company. 

There were seven distinct hills on the ground which was subsequentlyincluded within the limits of Rome. Between and among these hills theriver meandered by sweeping and graceful curves, and at one point, near the center of what is now the city, the stream passed very nearthe foot of one of the elevations called the Palatine Hill. Here wasthe spot where the wooden ark in which Romulus and Remus had been setadrift, had been thrown up upon the shore. The sides of the hill weresteep, and between it and the river there was in one part a deepmorass. Romulus thought, on surveying the ground with Remus hisbrother, that this was the best spot for building the city. They couldset apart a sufficient space of level ground around the foot of thehill for the houses--inclosing the whole with a wall--while the top ofthe hill itself might be fortified to form the citadel. The wall andthe steep acclivity of the ground would form a protection on threesides of the inclosure, while the morass alone would be a sufficientdefense on the part toward the river. Then Romulus was speciallydesirous to select this spot as the site, as it was here that he andhis brother had been saved from destruction in so wonderful a manner. 

[Illustration: SITUATION OF ROME. ]

Remus, however, did not concur in these views. A little farther downthe stream there was another elevation called the Aventine Hill, whichseemed to him more suitable for the site of a town. The sides wereless precipitous, and thus were more convenient for building ground. Then the land in the immediate vicinity was better adapted to thepurposes which they had in view. In a word, the Aventine Hill was, asRemus thought, for every substantial reason, much the best locality;and as for the fact of their having been washed ashore at the foot ofthe other hill, it was in his opinion an insignificant circumstance, wholly unworthy of being taken seriously into the account in layingthe foundation of a city. 

The positions in which Remus and Romulus stood in respect to eachother, and the feelings which were naturally awakened in their heartsby the circumstances in which they found themselves placed, were suchas did not tend to allay any rising asperity which accident mightoccasion, but rather to irritate and inflame it. In the first place, they were both ardent, impulsive, and imperious. Each was conscious ofhis strength, and eager to exercise it. Each wished to command, andwas wholly unwilling to obey. While they were in adversity, they clungtogether for mutual help and protection; but now, when they had comeinto the enjoyment of prosperity and power, the bands of affectionwhich had bound them together were very much weakened, and werefinally sundered. Then there was nothing whatever to mark anysuperiority of one over the other. If they had been of different ages, the younger could have yielded to the elder, in some degree, withoutwounding his pride. If one had been more prominent than the other ineffecting the revolution by which Amulius was dethroned, or if therehad been a native difference of temperament or character to mark adistinction, or if either had been designated by Numitor, or selectedby popular choice, for the command, --all might have been well. Butthere seemed in fact to be between them no grounds of distinctionwhatever. They were twins, so that neither could claim any advantageof birthright. They were equal in size, strength, activity, andcourage. They had been equally bold and efficient in effecting therevolution; and now they seemed equally powerful in respect to theinfluence which they wielded over the minds of their followers. Wehave been so long accustomed to consider Romulus the moredistinguished personage, through the associations connected with hisname, that have arisen from his subsequent career, that it isdifficult for us to place him and his brother on that footing ofperfect equality which they occupied in the estimation of all who knewthem in this part of their history. This equality had caused nodifference between them thus far, but now, since the advent of powerand prosperity prevented their continuing longer on a level, therenecessarily came up for decision the terrible question, --terrible whentwo such spirits as theirs have it to decide, --which was to yield thepalm. 

The brothers, therefore, having each expressed his preference inrespect to the best place for the city, were equally unwilling torecede from the ground which they had taken. Remus thought that therewas no reason why he should yield to Romulus, and Romulus was equallyunwilling to give way to Remus. Neither could yield, in fact, withoutin some sense admitting the superiority of the other. The respectivepartisans of the two leaders began to take sides, and the dissensionthreatened to become a serious quarrel. Finally, being not yet quiteready for an open rupture, they concluded to refer the question toNumitor, and to abide by his decision. They expected that he wouldcome and view the ground, and so decide where it was best that thecity should be built, and thus terminate the controversy. 

But Numitor was too sagacious to hazard the responsibility of decidingbetween two such equally matched and powerful opponents. He endeavoredto soothe and quiet the excited feelings of his grandsons, and finallyrecommended to them to appeal to _augury_ to decide the question. Augury was a mode of ascertaining the divine will in respect toquestions of expediency or duty, by means of certain prognosticationsand signs. These omens were of various kinds, but perhaps the mostcommon were the appearances observed in watching the flight of birdsthrough the air. 

It was agreed between Remus and Romulus, in accordance with the adviceof Numitor, that the question at issue between them should be decidedin this way. They were to take their stations on the two hillsrespectively--the Palatine and the Aventine, and watch for vultures. The homes of the vultures of Italy were among the summits of theAppenines, and their function in the complicated economy of animallife, was to watch from the lofty peaks of the mountains, or from thestill more aërial and commanding positions which they found in soaringat vast elevations in the air, for the bodies of the dead, --whether ofmen after a battle, or of sheep, or cattle, or wild beasts of theforests, killed by accident or dying of age, --and when found to removeand devour them; and thus to hasten the return of the lifelesselements to other forms of animal and vegetable life. What the earth, and the rite of burial, effects for man in advanced and cultivatedstages of society, the vultures of the Appenines were commissioned toperform for all the animal communities of Italy, in Numitor's time. 

To enable the vulture to accomplish the work assigned him, he isendowed with an inconceivable strength of wing, to sustain his flightover the vast distances which he has to traverse, and up to the vastelevations to which he must sometimes soar; and also with somemysterious and extraordinary sense, whether of sight or smell, toenable him readily to find, at any hour, the spot where his presenceis required, however remote or however hidden it may be. Guided bythis instinct, he flies from time to time with a company of hisfellows, from mountain to mountain, or wheels slowly in vast circlesover the plains--surveying the whole surface of the ground, andassuredly finding his work;--finding it too equally easily, whether itlie exposed in the open field, or is hidden, no matter how secretly, in forest, thicket, grove or glen. 

It was, to certain appearances, indicated in the flight of thesebirds--such as the number that were seen at a time, the quarter of theheavens in which they appeared, the direction in which they flew, asfrom left to right or from right to left--that the people of Numitor'sday were accustomed to look for omens and auguries. So Romulus andRemus took their stations on the hills which they had severallychosen, each surrounded by a company of his own adherents and friends, and began to watch the skies. It was agreed that the decision of thequestion between the two hills should be determined by the omenswhich should appear to the respective observers stationed upon them. 

But it happened, unfortunately, that the rules for the interpretationof auguries and omens, were far too indefinite and vague to answer thepurpose for which they were now appealed to. The most unequivocaldistinctness and directness in giving its responses is a veryessential requisite in any tribunal that is called upon as an umpire, to settle disputes; while the ancient auguries and oracles were alwayssusceptible of a great variety of interpretations. When Remus andRomulus commenced their watch no vultures were to be seen from eitherhill. They waited till evening, still none appeared. They continued towatch through the night. In the morning a messenger came over from thePalatine hill to Remus on the Aventine, informing him that vultureshad appeared to Romulus. Remus did not believe it. At last, however, the birds really came into view; a flock of six were seen by Remus, and afterward one of twelve by Romulus. The observations were thensuspended, and the parties came together to confer in respect to theresult; but the dispute instead of being settled, was found to be in aworse condition than ever. The point now to be determined was whethersix vultures seen first, or twelve seen afterward, were the betteromen, that is whether numbers, or simple priority of appearance, should decide the question. In contending in respect to this nicepoint the brothers became more angry with each other than ever. Theirrespective partisans took sides in the contest, which resulted finallyin an open and violent collision. Romulus and Remus themselves seem tohave commenced the affray by attacking one another. Faustulus, theirfoster-father, who, from having had the care of them from theirearliest infancy, felt for them an almost parental affection, rushedbetween them to prevent them from shedding each other's blood. He wasstruck down and killed on the spot, by some unknown hand. A brother ofFaustulus too, named Plistinus, who had lived near to him, and hadknown the boys from their infancy, and had often assisted in takingcare of them, was killed in the endeavor to aid his brother to appeasethe tumult. 

At length the disturbance was quelled. The result of the conflict was, however, to show that Romulus and his party were the strongest. Romulus accordingly went on to build the walls of the city at the spotwhich he had first chosen. The lines were marked out, and theexcavations were commenced with great ceremony. 

In laying out the work, the first thing to be done was to draw thelines of what was called the _pomœrium_. The pomœrium was a sortof symbolical wall, and was formed simply by turning a furrow with aplow all around the city, at a considerable distance from the realwalls, for the purpose, not of establishing lines of defense, but ofmarking out what were to be the limits of the corporation, so tospeak, for legal and ceremonial purposes. Of course, the pomœriumincluded a much greater space than the real walls, and the people wereallowed to build houses anywhere within this outer inclosure, or evenwithout it, though not very near to it. Those who built thus were, ofcourse, not protected in case of an attack, and of course they would, in such case, be compelled to abandon their houses, and retreat forsafety within the proper walls. 

So Romulus proceeded to mark out the pomœrium of the city, employing in the work the ceremonies customary on such occasions. Theplow used was made of copper, and for a team to draw it a bullock anda heifer were yoked together. Men appointed for the purpose followedthe plow, and carefully turned over the clods _toward_ the wall of thecity. This seems to have been considered an essential part of theceremony. At the places where roads were to pass in toward the gatesof the city, the plow was lifted out of the ground and carried overthe requisite space, so as to leave the turf at those points unbroken. This was a necessary precaution; for there was a certain consecratinginfluence that was exerted by this ceremonial plowing which hallowedthe ground wherever it passed in a manner that would very seriouslyinterfere with its usefulness as a public road. 

The form of the space inclosed by the pomœrium, as Romulus plowedit, was nearly square, and it included not merely the Palatine hillitself, but a considerable portion of level land around it. 

Though Romulus thus seemed to have conquered, in the strife withRemus, the difficulty was not yet fully settled. Remus was very littledisposed to acquiesce in his brother's assumed superiority over him. He was sullen, morose, and ill at ease, and was inclined to takelittle part in the proceedings which were going on. Finally anoccasion occurred which produced a crisis, and brought the rivalry andenmity of the brothers suddenly and forever to an end. Remus was oneday standing by a part of the wall which his brother's workmen werebuilding, and expressing, in various ways, and with great freedom, hisopinions of his brother's plans; and finally he began to speakcontemptuously of the wall which the workmen were building. Romulusall the time was standing by. At length, in order to enforce what hesaid about the insufficiency of the work, Remus leaped over a portionof it, saying, "This is the way the enemy will leap over your wall. "Hereupon Romulus seized a mattock from the hands of one of thelaborers, and struck his brother down to the ground with it, saying, "And this is the way that we will kill them if they do. " Remus waskilled by the blow. 

As soon as the deed was done, Romulus was at once overwhelmed withremorse and horror at the atrocity of the crime which he had been sosuddenly led to commit. His anguish was so great for a time that herefused all food, and he could not sleep. He caused the dead body ofRemus, and also those of Faustulus and of Plistinus, the brother ofFaustulus, to be buried with the most solemn and imposing funeralceremonies, so as to render all possible honor to their memory; andthen, not satisfied with this, he instituted and celebrated certainreligions rites, to prevent the ghosts of the deceased from comingback to haunt him. The ghosts, or specters of the dead that came backto haunt and terrify the living were called _lemures_. Hence thecelebration which Romulus ordained was called the Lemuria, and itcontinued to be annually observed in Rome during the whole period ofits subsequent history. 

Precisely what the ceremonies were which Romulus performed to appeasethe spirit of his brother can not now be ascertained, as there was noparticular description of them recorded. But the Lemuria, as afterwardperformed, were frequently described by Roman writers, and they wereof a very curious and extraordinary character. The time for thecelebration of these rites was in May, the anniversary, as wassupposed, of the days in which Romulus originally celebrated them. The Lemurial ceremonies extended through three days, or rathernights, although, for some curious reason or other, they werealternate and not consecutive nights. They were the nights of theninth, eleventh, and thirteenth of May. The ceremonies were performedin the night, for the reason that it was in the dark hours that ghostsand goblins were accustomed, as was supposed, to roam about the worldto haunt and terrify men. 

The ceremonies performed on these occasions are thus described. Theycommenced at midnight. The father of the family would rise at thathour and go out at the door of the house, making certaingesticulations and signals with his hands, which were supposed to havethe effect of keeping the specters away. He then washed his handsthree times in pure spring water. Then he filled his mouth with acertain kind of black beans for which ghosts were supposed to havesome particular fondness. Being thus provided he would walk along, taking the beans out of his mouth as he walked, and throwing thembehind him. The specters were supposed to gather up these beans as hethrew them down. He must, however, by no means look round to see them. He then, after speaking certain mysterious and cabalistic words, washed his hands again, and then making a frightful noise by strikingbrass basins together, he shouted out nine times, "Ghosts of thishouse begone!" This was supposed effectually to drive the spectersaway--an opinion which was always abundantly confirmed by the fact;for on looking round after this vociferated adjuration, the man alwaysfound that the specters were gone!

When by these ceremonies, or ceremonies such as these, Romulus hadappeased the spirit of his brother, and those of the guardians of hischildhood, his mind became more composed, and he turned his attentiononce more toward the building of the city. The party of Remus now, ofcourse, since it was deprived of its head, no longer maintaineditself, but was gradually broken up and merged in the general mass. Romulus became the sole leader of the enterprise, and immediatelyturned his attention to the measures to be adopted for a more completeand effectual organization of the community over which he foundhimself presiding. 

In respect to Remus, it ought perhaps to be added, that after hisdeath a story was circulated in Rome that it was a man named Celer, and not Romulus, that killed him. This story has not, however, beengenerally believed. It has been thought more probable that Romulushimself, or some of his partisans and friends, invented and circulatedthe story of Celer, in order to screen him in some degree from thereproach of so unnatural a crime as the killing of a brother so nearand dear to him as Remus had been;--a brother who had shared hisinfancy with him, who had slept with him, at the same time, in thearms of his mother, who had floated with him down the Tiber in thesame ark, been saved from death by the same miraculous intervention, and through all the years of infancy, childhood, and youth, had beenhis constant playmate, companion, and friend. The crime was as muchmore atrocious than any ordinary fratricide, as Remus had been nearerto Romulus than any ordinary brother. 

CHAPTER X. 

ORGANIZATION. 

B. C. 754

Discussion in respect to ancient dates. --Difficulties. --Nature oftradition. --Extreme youth of Romulus. --Varro's astrologicalcalculation. --Ingenuity of it. --Olympiads. --The race ofCoroebus. --The result of Varro's computation. --Probable characterof the first constructions at Rome. --Romulus convenes an assemblyof the people. --The speech of Romulus. --His proposals. --The threeforms of government. --Romulus himself made king. --Divine intimationin his favor. --Commencement of his reign. --Probable origin of theRoman institutions. --Republican character of the government. --Patriciansand plebians. --Patrons and clients. --Duration of the reign ofRomulus. --Usages. --Difficulty of immediately organizing such acommunity. --Importance of the parental and family relation. --The fathera magistrate. --The marriage tie. --Religions ceremonies. --Auguries. --Thethree augurs. --Various kinds of omens. --Station of the augurs. --Thunderand lightning. --Birds. --Nature of the ancient superstition. --Results ofthe arrangements made by Romulus. --The asylum on the Capitolinehill. 

There has been a great deal of philosophical discussion, and muchdebate, among historians and chronologists, in attempting to fix theprecise year in which Romulus commenced the building of Rome. Thedifficulty arises from the fact that no regular records of publicevents were made in those ancient days. In modern times such recordsare very systematically kept, --an express object of them being topreserve and perpetuate a knowledge of the exact truth in respect tothe time, and the attendant circumstances, relating to all greattransactions. On the other hand, the memory of public events in earlyperiods of the world, was preserved only through tradition; andtradition cares little for the exact and the true. She seeks only forwhat is entertaining. Her function being simply to give pleasure tosuccessive generations of listeners, by exciting their curiosity andwonder with tales, --which, the more strange and romantic they are, the better they are suited to her purpose--she concerns herself verylittle with such simple verities as dates and names. The exposure ofthe twin infants of Rhea, supposing such an event to have actuallyhappened, she remembered well, and repeated the narrative ofit--adorning it, doubtless, with many embellishments--from age to age, so that the whole story comes down to modern times in full detail; butas to the time when the event took place, she gave herself no concern. The date would have added nothing to the romance of the story, andthus it was neglected and forgotten. 

In subsequent times, however, when regular historical annals began tobe recorded, chronologists attempted to reason backward, from eventswhose periods were known, through various data which they ingeniouslyobtained from the preceding and less formal narratives, until theyobtained the dates of earlier events by a species of calculation. Inthis way the time for the building of Rome was determined to be aboutthe year 754 before Christ. As to Romulus himself, the tradition isthat he was but eighteen or twenty years old when he commenced thebuilding of it. If this is true, his extreme youth goes far topalliate some of the wrongs which he perpetrated--wrongs which wouldhave been far more inexcusable if committed with the deliberatepurpose of middle life, than if prompted by the unthinking impulsesand passions of eighteen. 

A certain Roman philosopher, named Varro, who lived some centuriesafter the building of the city, conceived of a very ingenious plan fordiscovering the year in which Romulus was born. It was this. By meansof the science of astrology, as practiced in those days, certainlearned magicians used to predict what the life and fortunes of anyman would be, from the aspects and phases of the planets and otherheavenly bodies at the time of his birth. The idea of Varro was toreverse this process in the case of Romulus; that is, to deduce fromthe known facts of his history what must have been the relativesituations of the planets and stars when he came into the world! Heaccordingly applied to a noted astrologer to work out the problem forhim. Given, a history of the incidents and events occurring to the manin his progress through life; required, the exact condition of theskies when the child was born. In other words, the astrologer was todetermine what must have been the relative positions of the sun, moon, and stars, at the birth of Romulus, in order to produce a being whoselife should exhibit such transactions and events as those whichappeared in Romulus's subsequent history. When the astrologer had thusascertained the condition of the skies at the time in question, the_astronomers_, as Varro concluded, could easily calculate the monthand the year when the combination must have occurred. 

Now, it was the custom in those days to reckon by Olympiads, whichwere periods of four years, the series commencing with a great victoryat a foot-race in Greece, won by a man named Coroebus, from whichevent originated the Olympian games, which were afterward celebratedevery four years, and which in subsequent ages became so renowned. Thetime when Coroebus ran his race, and thus furnished an era for allthe subsequent chronologists and historians of his country, isgenerally regarded as about the year 776 before Christ; and the resultof the calculations of Varro's astrologer, and of the astronomers whoperfected it, was, that to lead such a life as Romulus led, a man musthave been born at a time corresponding with the first year of thesecond Olympiad; that is, taking off from 776, four years, for thefirst Olympiad, the first year of the second Olympiad would be 772;this would make the time of his birth 772 before Christ; and thendeducting eighteen years more, for the age of Romulus when he began tobuild his wall, we have 754 before Christ as the era of the foundationof Rome. This method of determining a point in chronology seems soabsurd, according to the ideas of the present day, that we can hardlyresist the conclusion, that Varro, in making his investigation, wasreally guided by other and more satisfactory modes of determining thepoint, and that the horoscope was not what he actually relied upon. However this may be, the era which he fixed upon has been verygenerally received, though many others have been proposed by thedifferent learned men who have successively investigated the question. 

According to the accounts given by the early writers, theconstructions which Romulus and his companions made were of a veryrude and simple character; such as might have been expected from acompany of boys: for boys we ought perhaps to consider them all, sinceit is not to be presumed that the troop, in respect to age andexperience, would be much in advance of the leaders. The wall whichthey built about the city was probably only a substantial stone fence, and their houses were huts and hovels. Even the palace, for there wasa building erected for Romulus himself which was called the palace, was made, it is said, of _rushes_. Perhaps the meaning is that it wasthatched with rushes, --or possibly the expression refers to a mode ofbuilding sometimes adopted in the earlier stages of civilization, inwhich straw, or rushes, or some similar material is mixed with mud orclay to help bind the mass together, the whole being afterward driedin the sun. Walls thus made have been found to possess much morestrength and durability than would be supposed possible for such amaterial to attain. 

However this may be, the hamlet of huts which Romulus and his wildcoadjutors built and walled in, must have appeared, at the time, toall observers, a very rude and imperfect attempt at building a city;in fact it must have seemed to them, if it is true that Romulus was atthat time only eighteen years old, more like a frolic of thoughtlessboys than a serious enterprise of men. Romulus, however, whateverothers may have thought of his work, was wholly in earnest. He feltthat he was a prince, and proud of his birth, and fully conscious ofhis intellectual and personal power, he determined that he would havea kingdom. 

It seems, however, that thus far he had not been considered aspossessing any thing like regal authority over his company offollowers, but had been regarded only as a sort of chieftainexercising an undefined and temporary power; for as soon as the hutswere built and the inclosures made, he is said to have convened anassembly of the people, for consultation in respect to the plan ofgovernment that they should form. Romulus introduced the business ofthis meeting by a speech appropriate to the occasion, which speech isreported by an ancient historian somewhat as follows. Whether Romulusactually spoke the words thus attributed to him, or whether thereport contains only what the reporter himself imagined him to say, there is now no means of knowing. 

"We have now, " said Romulus, according to this record, "completed thebuilding of our city, so far as at present we are able to do it; andit must be confessed that if we were required to depend for protectionagainst a serious attack from an enemy, on the height of our walls, oron their strength and solidity, our prospects would not be veryencouraging. But our walls we must remember are not what we rely upon. No walls can be so high, that an enemy can not scale them. Thedependence must be after all on the men within the city, and not onthe ramparts and entrenchments which surround it, whatever thoseramparts and entrenchments may be. We must therefore rely uponourselves, for our safety--upon our valor, our discipline, our unionand harmony. It is courage and energy in the people, not strength inoutward defenses, on which the safety and prosperity of a State mustdepend. 

"The great work before us therefore is yet to be done. We have toorganize a government under which order and discipline may come in, to control and direct our energies, and prepare us to meet whateverfuture exigencies may arise, whether of peace or war. What form shallbe given to this government is the question that you have now toconsider. I have learned by inquiry that there are various modes ofgovernment adopted among men, and between these we have now to decide. Shall our commonwealth be governed by one man? Or shall we select acertain number of the wisest and bravest of the citizens, and committhe administration of public affairs to them? Or, in the third place, shall we commit the management of the government to the control of thepeople at large? Each of these three forms has its advantages, andeach is attended with its own peculiar dangers. You are to choosebetween them. Only when the decision is once made, let us all unite inmaintaining the government which shall be established, whatever itsform may be. "

The result of the deliberation which followed, after the delivery ofthis address, was that the government of the state should be, like thegovernment of Alba, under which the followers of Romulus had beenborn, a monarchy; and that Romulus himself should be king. He was aprince by birth, an inheritor of regal rank and power, by regularsuccession, from a line of kings. He had shown himself, too, by hisdeeds, to be worthy of power. He was courageous, energetic, sagacious, and universally esteemed. It was decided accordingly that he should beking, and he was proclaimed such by all the assembled multitude, withlong and loud acclamations. 

Notwithstanding the apparent unanimity and earnestness of the people, however, in calling Romulus to the throne, he evinced, as the storygoes, the proper degree of that reluctance and hesitation which asuitable regard to appearances seems in all ages to require of publicmen when urged to accept of power. He was thankful to the people forthe marks of their confidence, but he could not consent to assume theresponsibilities and prerogatives of power until the choice made byhis countrymen had been confirmed by the divinities of the land. So heresolved on instituting certain solemn religious ceremonies, duringthe progress of which he hoped to receive some manifestation of thedivine will. These ceremonies consisted principally of sacrificeswhich he caused to be offered on the plain near the city. WhileRomulus was engaged in these services, the expected token of thedivine approval appeared in a supernatural light which shone upon hishand. At least it was _said_ that such a light was seen, and theappearing of it was considered as clearly confirming the right ofRomulus to the throne. He no longer made any objection to assuming thegovernment of the new city as its acknowledged king. 

The first object to which he gave his attention was the organizationof the people, and the framing of the general constitution of society. The community over which he was called to preside had consisted thusfar of very heterogeneous and discordant materials. Vast numbers ofthe people were of the humblest and most degraded condition, consisting of ignorant peasants, some stupid, others turbulent andungovernable; and of refugees from justice, such as thieves, robbers, and outlaws of every degree. But then, on the other hand, there weremany persons of standing and respectability. The sons of families ofwealth and influence in Alba had, in many cases, joined theexpedition, and at last, when the building of the city had advancedso far as to make it appear that the enterprise might succeed, moremen of age and character came to join it, so that Romulus foundhimself, when he formally assumed the kingly power, at the head of acommunity which contained the elements of a very respectablecommonwealth. These elements were, however, thus far all mingledtogether in complete confusion, and the work that was first to be donewas to adopt some plan for classifying and arranging them. 

It is most probable, as a matter of fact, that the organization andthe institutions which in subsequent times appeared in the Romanstate, were not deliberately planned and formally introduced byRomulus at the outset, but that they gradually grew up in the progressof time, and that afterward historians and philosophers, inspeculating upon them at their leisure, carried back the history ofthem to the earliest times, in order, by so doing, to honor thefounder of the city, and also to exalt and aggrandize the institutionsthemselves in public estimation, by celebrating the antiquity anddignity of their origin. 

The institutions which Romulus actually founded, were of a veryrepublican character, if the accounts of subsequent writers are to bebelieved. He established, it is true, a gradation of ranks, but themost important offices, civil and military, were filled, it is said, by election on the part of the people. In the first place, the wholepopulation was divided into three portions, which were called_tribes_, which word was formed from the Latin word _tres_, meaningthree. These tribes chose each three presiding officers, selecting forthe purpose the oldest and most distinguished of their number. It isprobable, in fact, that Romulus himself really made the selection, andthat the action of the people was confined to some sort of expressionof assent and concurrence, for it is difficult to imagine how anyother kind of election than this could be possible among so rude andignorant a multitude. The tribes were then subdivided each into thirty_counts_ or _counties_, and each of these likewise elected its head. Thus there was a large body of magistrates or chieftains appointed, ninety-nine in number, namely, nine heads of tribes and ninety headsof counties. Romulus himself added one to the number, of his ownindependent selection, which made the hundredth. The men thus chosen, constituted what was called the senate. They formed the greatlegislative council of the nation. They and the families descendingfrom them became, in subsequent times, an aristocratic and privilegedclass, called the Patricians. The remaining portion of the populationwere called Plebeians. 

The Plebeians comprised, of course, the industrial and useful classes, and were in rank and station inferior to the Patricians. They were, however, not all upon a level with each other, for they were dividedinto two great classes, called _patrons_ and _clients_. The patronswere the employers, the proprietors, the men of influence and capital. The clients were the employed, the dependent, the poor. The clientswere to perform services of various kinds for the patrons, and thepatrons were to reward, to protect, and to defend the clients. Allthese arrangements Romulus is said to have ordained by his enactments, and thus introduced as elements in the social constitution of thestate. It is more probable, however, that instead of being thusexpressly established, by the authority of Romulus as a lawgiver, theygradually grew up of themselves, perhaps with some fosteringattention and care on his part, and possibly under some positiveregulation of law. For such important and complicated relations asthese are not of a nature to be easily called into existence andaction, in an extended and unorganized community, by the mere fiat ofa military chieftain. 

Perhaps, however, it is not intended by the ancient historians, inreferring all these complicated arrangements of the Roman civil polityto the enactments of Romulus, to convey the idea that he introducedthem at once in all their completeness, at the outset of his reign. Romulus continued king of Rome for nearly forty years, and instead ofmaking formal and positive enactments, he may have graduallyintroduced the arrangements ascribed to him, as _usages_ which hefostered and encouraged, --confirming and sanctioning them from time totime, when occasion required, by edicts and laws. 

However this may have been, it is certain that Romulus, in the courseof his reign, laid the foundation of the future greatness and glory ofRome, by the energy with which he acted in introducing order, system, and discipline into the community which he found gathered around him. He seems to have had the sagacity to perceive from the outset that thegreat evil and danger which he had to fear was the prevalence of thespirit of disorder and misrule among his followers. In fact, nothingbut tumult and confusion was to have been expected from such a lawlesshorde as his, and even after the city was built, the presumption musthave been very strong in the mind of any considerate and prudent man, against the possibility of ever regulating and controlling such a massof heterogeneous and discordant materials, by any human means. Romulussaw, however, that in effecting this purpose lay the only hope of thesuccess of his enterprise, and he devoted himself with great assiduityand care, and at the same time with great energy and success, to thework of organizing it. The great leading objects of his life, from thetime that he commenced the government of the new city, were to arrangeand regulate social institutions, to establish laws, to introducediscipline, to teach and accustom men to submit to authority, and tobring in the requirements of law, and the authority of the variousrecognized relations of social life, to control and restrain thewayward impulses of the natural heart. 

As a part of this system of policy, he laid great stress upon theparental and family relation. He saw in the tie which binds the fatherto the child and the child to the father, a natural bond which heforesaw would greatly aid him in keeping the turbulent and boisterouspropensities of human nature under some proper control. He accordinglymagnified and confirmed the natural force of parental authority byadding the sanctions of law to it. He defined and established thepower of the father to govern and control the son, rightly consideringthat the father is the natural ally of the state in restraining youngmen from violence, and enforcing habits of industry and order uponthem, at an age when they most need control. He clothed parents, therefore, with authority to fulfill this function, considering thatwhat he thus aided them to do, was so much saved for the civilmagistrate and the state. In fact, he carried this so far that it issaid that the dependence of the child upon the father, under theinstitutions of Romulus, was more complete, and was protracted to alater period than was the case under the laws of any other nation. The power of the father over his household was supreme. He was amagistrate, so far as his children were concerned, and could thus notonly require their services, and inflict light punishments fordisobedience upon them, as with us, but he could sentence them to theseverest penalties of the law, if guilty of crime. 

The laws were equally stringent in respect to the marriage tie. Deathwas the penalty for the violation of the marriage vows. All propertybelonging to the husband and to the wife was held by them in common, and the wife, if she survived the husband, and if the husband diedwithout a will, became his sole heir. In a word, the laws of Romulusevince a very strong desire on the part of the legislator to sustainthe sacredness and to magnify the importance of the family tie; and toavail himself of those instinctive principles of obligation and dutywhich so readily arise in the human mind out of the various relationsof the family state, in the plans which he formed for subduing theimpulses and regulating the action of his rude community. 

He devoted great attention too to the institutions of religion. Heknew well that such lawless and impetuous spirits as his could neverbe fully subdued and held in proper subordination to the rules ofsocial order and moral duty, without the influence of motives drawnfrom the spiritual world; and he accordingly adopted vigorous measuresfor confirming and perpetuating such religious observances as were atthat time observed, and in introducing others. Every public act whichhe performed was always accompanied and sanctioned by religioussolemnities. The rites and ceremonies which he instituted seem puerileto us, but they were full of meaning and of efficacy in the view ofthose who performed them. There was, for example, a class of religiousfunctionaries called _augurs_, whose office it was to interpret thedivine will by means of certain curious indications which it was theirspecial profession to understand. There were three of these augurs, and they were employed on all public occasions, both in peace and war, to ascertain from the omens whether the enterprise or the work inregard to which they were consulted was or was not favored by thecouncils of heaven. If the augury was propitious the work was enteredupon with vigor and confidence. If otherwise, it was postponed orabandoned. 

The omens which the augurs observed were of various kinds, being drawnsometimes from certain peculiarities in the form and structure of theinternal organs of animals offered in sacrifice, sometimes from theappearance of birds in the sky, their numbers or the direction oftheir flight, and sometimes from the forms of clouds, the appearanceof the lightning, and the sound of the thunder. Whenever the augurswere to take the auspices from any of the signs of the sky, theprocess was this. They would go with solemn ceremony to some highplace--in Rome there was a station expressly consecrated to thispurpose on the Capitoline hill, --and there, with a sort of magicalwand which they had for the purpose, one of the number would determineand indicate the four quarters of the heaven, pointing out in a solemnmanner the directions of east, west, north and south. The augur wouldthen take his stand with his back to the west and his face of courseto the east. The north would then be on his left hand and the south athis right. He would then, in this position watch for the signs. If itwas from the thunder that the auspices were to be taken, the augurwould listen to hear from what quarter of the heavens it came. If thelightning appeared in the east and the sound of the thunder seemed tocome from the northward, the presage was favorable. So it was if thechain of lightning seen in the sky appeared to pass from cloud tocloud above, instead of descending to the ground. On the other hand, thunder sounding as if it came from the southward, and lightningstriking down to the earth, were both unpropitious omens. As to birds, some were of good omen, as vultures, eagles and woodpeckers. Otherswere evil, as ravens and owls. Various inferences were drawn too fromthe manner in which the birds that appeared in the air, were seen tofly, and from the sound of their note at the time when the observationwas made. 

By these and many similar means the government of Romulus vainlyendeavored to ascertain the will of heaven in respect to the plans andenterprises in which they were called upon from time to time toengage. There was perhaps in these observances much imposture, andmuch folly; still they could only have been sustained, in theirinfluence and ascendency over the minds of the people, by a sincereveneration on their part for some unseen and spiritual power, and areverent desire to conform the public measures of their government towhat they supposed to be the divine will. 

By such measures as we have thus described Romulus soon produced orderout of confusion within his little commonwealth. The enterprise whichhe had undertaken and the great success which had thus far followedit, attracted great attention, and he soon found that great numbersbegan to come in from all the surrounding country to join him. Many ofthese were persons of still worse character than those who had adheredto him at first, and he soon found that to admit them indiscriminatelyinto the city would be to endanger the process of organization whichwas now so well begun. He accordingly set apart a hill near to hiscity called the Capitoline hill, as an asylum for them, where theycould remain in safety under regulations suitable to their condition, and without interfering with the arrangements which he had made forthe rest. This asylum soon became a very attractive place for all thevagabonds, outlaws, thieves and robbers of the country. Romuluswelcomed them all, and as fast as they came he busied himself withplans to furnish them with employment and subsistence. He enlistedsome of them in his army. Some he employed to cultivate the ground inthe territory belonging to the city. Others were engaged as servantsfor the people within the walls--being taken into the city, in smallnumbers, from time to time, as fast as they could be safely received. In process of time, however, the walls of the city were extended so asto include the Capitoline hill, and thus at last the whole mass wasbrought into Rome together. 

CHAPTER XI. 

WIVES. 

B. C. 751

The rape of the Sabines. --Narrative of it. --The population of Romechiefly men. --Necessity of providing wives for them. --Romulus sendsembassadors to the surrounding states. --Insulting replies. --Anger ofthe Romans. --Great discovery made by Romulus. --His plan. --Plans forthe festival. --Races, games, and shows. --A great concourse assemblesat the fair. --The spectacles continue several weeks. --The last day ofthe fair. --Signal to be made by Romulus. --Excitement of theRomans. --Final preparations. --The moment arrives. --The maidensseized. --The men fly. --The Romans secure the captive maidens. --Anincident. --A captive "for Thalassius. "--The phrase "for Thalassius"becomes a proverb. --Resentment of the fathers and brothers of themaidens. --The captives called together in the morning. --Address madeto them by Romulus. --Acquiescence of the captives. --Cures. --The Sabinesdemand the restoration of the captives. --Romulus refuses to restorethem. --Ceremony in commemoration of these events. 

Every reader who has made even the smallest beginning in the study ofancient history, must be acquainted, in general, with the mode whichRomulus adopted to provide the people of his city with wives, by thetransaction which is commonly called in history the rape of theSabines. The deed itself, as it actually occurred, may perhaps havebeen one of great rudeness, violence, and cruelty. If so, thehistorians who described it contrived to soften the character of it, and to divest it in a great measure of the repulsive features whichmight have been supposed to characterize such a transaction, for, according to the narrative which they give us, the whole proceedingwas conducted in such a manner as to evince not only great ingenuityand sagacity on the part of Romulus and his government, but also greatmoderation and humanity. The circumstances, as the historians relatethem, were these:

As might naturally be supposed from the manner in which the companywhich formed the population of Rome had been collected, it consistedat first almost wholly of men. The laws and regulations referred to inthe last chapter, in respect to the family relation, were those framedafter the organization of the community had become somewhat advanced, since at the outset there could be very few families, inasmuch as thecompany which first met together to build the city, consisted simplyof an army of young men. It is true that among those who joined themat first there were some men of middle life and some families, --still, as is always the case with new cities and countries suddenly andrapidly settled, the population consisted almost entirely of men. 

It was necessary that the men should have wives. There were severalreasons for this. First, it was necessary for the comfort andhappiness of the people themselves. A community of mere men is gloomyand desolate. Secondly, for the continuance and perpetuity of thestate it was necessary that there should be wives and children, sothat when one generation should have passed away there might beanother to succeed it. And, thirdly, for the preservation of order andlaw. Men unmarried are, in the mass, proverbially ungovernable. Nothing is so effectual in keeping a citizen away from scenes oftumult and riot as a wife and children at home. The fearful violenceof the riots and insurrections of which the city of Paris has so oftenbeen the scene, is explained, in a great degree, by the circumstancethat so immense a proportion of the population are unmarried. Theyhave no homes, and no defenseless wives and children to fear for, andso they fear nothing, but give themselves up, in times of publicexcitement, to the wildest impulses of passion. Romulus seems to haveunderstood this, and his first care was to provide the way by which asmany as possible of his people should be married. 

The first measure which he adopted, was to send embassadors around tothe neighboring states, soliciting alliances with them, andstipulations allowing of intermarriages between his people and theirs. The proposal seemed not unreasonable, and it was made in an unassumingand respectful manner. In the message which Romulus commissioned theembassadors to deliver, he admitted that his colony was yet small, and by no means equal in influence and power to the kingdoms whosealliance he desired; but he reminded those whom he addressed thatgreat results came sometimes in the end from very inconsiderablebeginnings, and that their enterprise thus far, though yet in itsinfancy, had been greatly prospered, and was plainly an object ofdivine favor, and that the time might not be far distant when the newstate would be able fully to reciprocate such favors as it might nowreceive. 

The neighboring kings to whom these embassages were sent rejected theproposals with derision. They did not even give _serious_ answers, obviously considering the new city as a mere temporary gathering andencampment of adventurers and outlaws, which would be as transient asit was rude and irregular. They looked to see it break up as suddenlyand tumultuously as it had been formed. They accordingly sent backword to Romulus that he must resort to the same plan to get women forhis city that he had adopted to procure recruits of men. He must openan _asylum_ for them. The low and the dissolute would come flockingto him then, they said, from all parts, and vagabond women would makejust the kind of wives for vagabond men. 

Of course, the young men of the city were aroused to an extreme pitchof indignation at receiving this response. They were clamorous forwar. They wished Romulus to lead them out against some of these citiesat once, and allow them at the same time to revenge the insults whichthey had received, and to provide themselves with wives by violence, since they could not obtain them by solicitation. But Romulusrestrained their ardor, saying that they must do nothing rashly, andpromising to devise a better way than theirs to attain the end. 

The plan which he devised was to invite the people of the surroundingstates and cities both men and women, to come to Rome, with a view ofseizing some favorable occasion for capturing the women while theywere there, and driving the men away. The difficulty in the way of theexecution of this plan was obviously to induce the people to come, andespecially to bring the young women with them. The native timidity ofthe maidens, joined to the contemptuous feelings which their fathersand brothers cherished, in regard to every thing pertaining to the newcity, would very naturally keep them away, unless something could bedevised which would exert a very strong attraction. 

Romulus waited a little time, in order that any slight excitementwhich had been produced by his embassy should have had time tosubside, and then he made, or pretended to make, a great discovery ina field not far from his town. This discovery was the finding of anancient altar of Neptune, under ground. The altar was brought to viewby some workmen who were making excavations at the place. How it cameto be under ground, and who had built it, no one knew. The rumor ofthis great discovery was spread immediately in every direction. Romulus attached great importance to the event. The altar hadundoubtedly been built, he thought, by the ancient inhabitants of thecountry, and the finding it was a very momentous occurrence. It wasproper that the occasion should be solemnized by suitable religiousobservances. 

Accordingly, arrangements were made for a grand celebration. Inaddition to the religious rites, Romulus proposed that a great fairshould be held on a plain near the city at the same time. Booths wereerected, and the merchants of all the neighboring cities were invitedto come, bringing with them such articles as they had for sale, andthose who wished to buy were to come with their money. In a word, arrangements were made for a great and splendid festival. 

There were to be games too, races, and wrestlings, and other athleticsports, such as were in vogue in those times. The celebration was tocontinue for many days, and the games and sports were to come at theend. Romulus sent messengers to all the surrounding country toproclaim the programme of these entertainments, and to invite everybody to come; and he adroitly arranged the details in such a mannerthat the chief attractions for grave, sober-minded and substantial menshould be on the earlier days of the show, and that the latter daysshould be devoted to lighter amusements, such as would possess a charmfor the young, the light-hearted and the happy. It was among this lastclass that he naturally expected to find the maidens whom his menwould choose in looking for wives. 

When the time arrived the spectacles commenced. There was a greatconcourse at the outset, but the people who first came, were, asRomulus supposed would be the case, chiefly men. They came incompanies, as if for mutual support and protection, and they exhibitedin a greater or less degree an air of suspicion, watchfulness andmistrust. They were, however, received with great cordiality andkindness. They were conducted about the town, and were astonished tofind how considerable a town it was. The streets, the houses, thewalls, the temples, simple in construction as they were, far surpassedthe expectations they had formed. The visitors were treated with greathospitality, and entertained in a manner which, considering thecircumstances of the case, was quite sumptuous. The women and childrentoo, who came on these first days, received from all the Romans veryspecial attention and regard. 

As the celebrations went on from day to day, a considerable changetook place in the character and appearance of the company. The menceased to be suspicious and watchful. Some went home, and carried suchreports of the new city, and of the kindness, and hospitality, andgentle behavior of the inhabitants, that new visitors came continuallyto see for themselves. Every day the proportion of stern andsuspicious men diminished, and that of gay and happy-looking youthsand maidens increased. 

In the mean time, the men of the city were under strict injunctionsfrom Romulus to treat their guests in the most respectful manner, leaving them entirely at liberty to go and come as they pleased, except so far as they could detain them by treating them with kindnessand attention, and devising new sports and amusements for them fromday to day. Things continued in this state for two or three weeks, during all which time the new city was a general place of resort forthe people of all the surrounding country. Of course a great manyagreeable acquaintances would naturally be formed between the youngmen of the city and their visitors, as accidental circumstances, orindividual choice and preference brought them together; and thus, without any directions on the subject from Romulus, each man wouldvery naturally occupy himself, in anticipation of the general seizurewhich he knew was coming, in making his selection beforehand, of themaiden whom he intended, when the time for the seizure came, to makehis own; and the maiden herself would probably be less terrified, andmake less resistance to the attempt to capture her, than if it were bya perfect stranger that she was to be seized. 

All this Romulus seems very adroitly to have arranged. The time forthe final execution of the scheme was to be the last day of thecelebration. The best spectacle and show of all was to take place onthat day. The Romans were directed to come armed to this show, but tokeep their arms carefully concealed beneath their garments. They wereto do nothing till Romulus gave the signal. He was himself to beseated upon a sort of throne, in a conspicuous place, where all couldsee him, presiding, as it were, over the assembly, while the spectaclewent on; and finally, when he judged that the proper moment hadarrived, he was to give the signal by taking off a certain loosearticle of dress which he wore--a sort of cloak or mantle--and foldingit up, and then immediately unfolding it again. This mantle was a sortof badge of royalty and was gayly adorned with purple stripes upon awhite ground. It was well adapted, therefore, to the purpose of beingused as a signal, inasmuch as any motions that were made with it couldbe very easily seen. 

Every thing being thus arranged, the assembly was convened, and thegames and spectacles went on. The Romans were full of excitement andtrepidation, each one having taken his place as near as possible tothe maiden whom he was intending to seize, and occupying himself withkeeping his eye upon her as closely as he could, without seeming to doso, and at the same time watching the royal mantle, and every movementmade by the wearer of it, that he might catch the signal the instantthat it should be made. All this time the men among the guests at theentertainment were off their guard, and wholly at their ease--havingno suspicion whatever of the mine that was ready to be sprung beneaththem. The wives, mothers, and children, too, were all safe, as well asunsuspicious of danger; for Romulus had given special charge that nomarried woman should be molested. The men had had ample time andopportunity in the many days of active social intercourse which theyhad enjoyed with their guests, to know who were free, and they wereforbidden in any instance to take a wife away from her husband. 

At length the moment arrived for giving the signal. Romulus took offhis mantle, folded it, and then unfolded it again. The Romansimmediately drew their swords, and rushed forward, each to secure hisown prize. A scene of the greatest excitement and confusion ensued. The whole company of visitors perceived of course that some great actof treachery was perpetrated upon them, but they were wholly in thedark in respect to the nature and design of it. They were chieflyunarmed, and wholly unprepared for so sudden an attack, and they fledin all directions in dismay, protecting themselves and their wives andchildren as well as they could, as they retired, and aiming only towithdraw as large a number as possible from the scene of violence andconfusion that prevailed. The Romans were careful not to do them anyinjury, but, on the contrary, to allow them to withdraw, and to takeaway all the mothers and children without any molestation. In fact, itwas the very object and design of the onset which they made upon thecompany, not only to seize upon the maidens, but to drive all the restof their visitors away. The men, therefore, in the excitement andterror of the moment, fled in all directions, taking with them thosewhom they could most readily secure, who were, of course, those whomthe Romans left to them; while the Romans themselves withdrew withtheir prizes, and secured them within the walls of the city. 

In reading this extraordinary story, we naturally feel a strongdisposition to inquire what part the damsels themselves took, whenthey found themselves thus suddenly seized and carried away, by thesedaring and athletic assailants. Did they resist and struggle to getfree, or did they yield themselves without much opposition to theirfate? That they did not resist effectually is plain, for the Romanyoung men succeeded in carrying them away, and securing them. It maybe that they attempted to resist, but found their strength overpoweredby the desperate and reckless violence of their captors. And yet, itcan not be denied that woman is endued with the power of making byvarious means a very formidable opposition to any attempt to abducther by any single man, when she is thoroughly in earnest about it. Howit was in fact in this case we have no direct information, and we haveconsequently no means of forming any opinion in respect to the lightin which this rough and lawless mode of wooing was regarded by theobjects of it, except from the events which subsequently occurred. 

One incident took place while the Romans were seizing and carryingaway their prizes, which was afterward long remembered, as it becamethe foundation of a custom which continued for many centuries to forma part of the marriage ceremony at Rome. It seems that some youngmen--very young, and of a humble class--had seized a peculiarlybeautiful girl--one of some note and consideration, too, among hercountrywomen--and were carrying her away, like the rest. Some otheryoung Romans of the patrician order seeing this, and thinking that sobeautiful a maiden ought not to fall to the share of such plebeians, immediately set out in full pursuit to rescue her. The plebeianshurried along to escape from them, calling out at the same time, "_Thalassio! Thalassio!_" which means "For Thalassius, ForThalassius. " They meant by this to convey the idea that the prizewhich they had in possession was intended not for any one of their ownnumber, but for Thalassius. Now Thalassius was a young nobleuniversally known and very highly esteemed by all his countrymen, andwhen the rescuing party were thus led to suppose that the beautifullady was intended for him, they acquiesced immediately, and desistedfrom their attempt to recapture her, and thus by the aid of theirstratagem the plebeians carried off their prize in safety. When thiscircumstance came afterward to be known, the ingenuity of the youngplebeians, and the success of their manœver, excited very generalapplause, and the exclamation, _Thalassio_, passed into a sort ofproverb, and was subsequently adopted as an exclamation of assent andcongratulation, to be used by the spectators at a marriage ceremony. 

Romulus had issued most express and positive orders that the youngcaptives should be treated after their seizure in the kindest and mostrespectful manner, and should be subject to no violence, and noill-treatment of any kind, other than that necessary for conveyingthem to the places of security previously designated. They sufferedundoubtedly a greater or less degree of distress and terror, --butfinding that they were treated, after their seizure, with respectfulconsideration, and that they were left unmolested by their captors, they gradually recovered their composure during the night, and in themorning were quite self-possessed and calm. Their fathers and brothersin the mean time had gone home to their respective cities, taking withthem the women and children that they had saved, and burning withindignation and rage against the perpetrators of such an act oftreachery as had been practiced upon them. They were of course in astate of great uncertainty and suspense in respect to the fate whichawaited the captives, and were soon eagerly engaged in forming anddiscussing all possible plans for rescuing and recovering them. Thusthe night was passed in agitation and excitement, both within andwithout the city, --the excitement of terror and distress, greatperhaps, though subsiding on the part of the captives, and ofresentment and rage which grew deeper and more extended every hour, onthe part of their countrymen. 

When the morning came, Romulus ordered the captive maidens to be allbrought together before him in order that he might make as it were anapology to them for the violence to which they had been subjected, andexplain to them the circumstances which had impelled the Romans toresort to it. 

"You ought not, " said he, "to look upon it as an indignity that youhave been thus seized, for the object of the Romans in seizing you wasnot to dishonor you, or to do you any injury, but only to secure youfor their wives in honorable marriage; and far from being displeasedwith the extraordinariness of the measures which they have adopted tosecure you, you ought to take pride in them, as evincing the ardor andstrength of the affection with which you have inspired your lovers. Iwill assure you that when you have become their wives you shall betreated with all the respect and tenderness that you have beenaccustomed to experience under your fathers' roofs. The brief coercionwhich we have employed for the purpose of securing you in the firstinstance, --a coercion which we were compelled to resort to by thenecessity of the case, --is the only rudeness to which you will everbe exposed. Forgive us then for this one liberty which we have taken, and consider that the fault, whatever fault in it there may be, is notours, but that of your fathers and brothers who rejected our offersfor voluntary and peaceful alliances, and thus compelled us to resortto this stratagem or else to lose you altogether. Your destiny if youunite with us will be great and glorious. We have not taken youcaptive to make you prisoners or slaves, or to degrade you in any wayfrom your former position; but to exalt you to positions of highconsideration in a new and rising colony;--a colony which is surelydestined to become great and powerful, and of which we mean you to bethe chief glory and charm. "

The young and handsome Romans stood by while Romulus made this speech, their countenances animated with excitement and pleasure. The maidensthemselves seemed much inclined to yield to their fate. Theirresentment gradually subsided. It has been, in fact, in all ages, characteristic of women to be easily led to excuse and forgive anywrong on the part of another which is prompted by love for herself:and these injured maidens seemed gradually to come to the conclusion, that considering all the circumstances of the case their abductorswere not so much in fault after all. In a short time an excellentunderstanding was established, and they were all married. There were, it is said, about five or six hundred of them, and it proved that mostof them were from the nation of the Sabines, a nation which inhabiteda territory north of the colony of the Romans. The capital of theSabines was a city called Cures. Cures was about twenty miles fromRome. [E]

[Footnote E: See map of Latium, page 134. ]

The Sabines, in deliberating on the course which they should pursue inthe emergency, found themselves in a situation of great perplexity. Inthe first place the impulse which urged them to immediate acts ofretaliation and hostility was restrained by the fact that so many oftheir beloved daughters were wholly in the power of their enemies, andthey could not tell what cruel fate might await the captives if theywere themselves to resort to any measures that would exasperate orprovoke the captors. Then again their own territory was very muchexposed and they were by no means certain, in case a war should becommenced between them and the Romans, how it would end. Their ownpopulation was much divided, being scattered over the territory, orsettled in various cities and towns which were but slightly fortified, and consequently were much exposed to assault in case the Romans wereto make an incursion into their country. In view of all theseconsiderations the Sabines concluded that it would be best for them onthe whole, to try the influence of gentle measures, before resortingto open war. 

They therefore sent an embassy to Romulus, to remonstrate in strongterms against the wrong which the Romans had done them by theirtreacherous violence, and to demand that the young women should berestored. "If you will restore them to us now, " said they, "we willoverlook the affront which you have put upon us, and make peace withyou; and we will enter into an alliance with you so that hereafteryour people and ours may be at liberty to intermarry in a fair andhonorable way, but we can not submit to have our daughters taken awayfrom us by treachery and force. "

Reasonable as this proposition seems, Romulus did not think it bestto accede to it. It was, in fact, too late, for such deeds once donecan hardly be undone. Romulus replied, that the women, being now thewives of the Romans, could not be surrendered. The violence, he said, of which the Sabines complained was unavoidable. No other possible wayhad been open to them for gaining the end. He was willing, he added, to enter into a treaty of peace and alliance with the Sabines, butthey must acknowledge, as a preliminary to such a treaty, the validityof the marriages, which, as they had already been consummated, couldnot now be annulled. 

The Sabines, on their part, could not accede to these proposals. Being, however, still reluctant to commence hostilities, theycontinued the negotiations--though while engaged in them they seemedto anticipate an unfavorable issue, for they were occupied all thetime in organizing troops, strengthening the defenses of theirvillages and towns, and making other vigorous preparations for war. 

The Romans, in the mean time, seemed to find the young wives whichthey had procured by these transactions a great acquisition to theircolony. It proved, too, that they not only prized the acquisition, but they exulted so much in the ingenuity and success of the stratagemby which their object had been effected, that a sort of symbolicalviolence in taking the bride became afterward a part of the marriageceremony in all subsequent weddings. For always, in future years, whenthe new-married wife was brought home to her husband's house, it wasthe custom for him to take her up in his arms at the door, and carryher over the threshold as if by force, thus commemorating by thisceremony the coercion which had signalized the original marriages ofhis ancestors, the founders of Rome. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE SABINE WAR. 

B. C. 750-746

King Acron. --Cænina. --Its distance from Rome. --Acron's hostility tothe new city. --His plans. --Romulus and Acron meet on thefield. --Anticipations of the spectators. --Romulus victorious. --Resultsof his victory. --Subsequent policy of the Romans. --The trophy of thevictory. --First Roman triumph. --Annexation of more cities. --Womensummoned. --The address of Romulus. --His promises. --Generous policypursued by Romulus. --Enlargement of the city. --Plans of theSabines. --They mature their preparations. --Titus Tatius. --Preparationsof the Romans. --Final negotiations. --The Roman herdsmen. --Flocks andherds called in. --The citadel. --Tarpeia. --The Campus Martius. --Parleywith Tarpeia. --Agreement made with Tarpeia. --The Sabinesadmitted. --Tarpeia killed. --The two armies meet on the plain. --A truceto bury the dead. --Fresh combats. --Romulus in great personaldanger. --The story of Curtius. --The lake. --Distress of the Sabinewomen. --Their perplexity. --The plan of Hersilia. --The women admitted tothe senate house. --Arrangements for the intercession of the women. --Theaddress of Hersilia. --Effect of it. --Conditions and terms of peace. 

While the negotiations with the Sabines were still pending, Romulusbecame involved in another difficulty, which for a time assumed a verythreatening aspect. This difficulty was a war which broke out, somewhat suddenly, in consequence of the invasion of the Romanterritories by a neighboring chieftain named Acron. Acron was thesovereign of a small state, whose capital was a town called Cænina. [F]This Cænina is supposed to have been only four or five miles distantfrom Romulus's city, --a fact which shows very clearly on how small ascale the deeds and exploits connected with the first foundation ofthe great empire, which afterward became so extended and so renowned, were originally performed, and how intrinsically insignificant theywere, in themselves, though momentous in the extreme in respect to theconsequences that flowed from them. 

[Footnote F: See Map of Latium, page 134. ]

Acron was a bold, energetic, and determined man, who had alreadyacquired great fame by his warlike exploits, and who had long beenwatching the progress of the new colony with an evil eye. He thoughtthat if it were allowed to take root, and to grow, it might, at somefuture day, become a formidable enemy, both to him, and also to theother states in that part of Italy. He had been very desirous, therefore, of finding some pretext for attacking the new city, andwhen he heard of the seizure of the Sabine women, he thought that thetime had arrived. He, therefore, urged the Sabines to make war at onceupon the Romans, and promised, if they would do so, to assist themwith all the forces that he could command. The Sabines, however, wereso unwilling to proceed to extremities, and spent so much time innegotiations and embassies, that Acron's patience was at length whollyexhausted by the delays, and he resolved to undertake theextermination of the new colony himself alone. 

So he gathered together a rude and half-organized army, and advancedtoward Rome. Romulus, who had been informed of his plans andpreparations, went out to meet him. The two armies came in view ofeach other on an open plain, not far from the city. Romulus advancedat the head of his troops, while Acron appeared likewise in thefore-front of the invaders. After uttering in the hearing of eachother, and of the assembled armies, various exclamations of challengeand defiance, it was at length agreed that the question at issueshould be decided by single combat, the two commanders themselves tobe the champions. Romulus and Acron accordingly advanced into themiddle of the field, while their armies drew up around them, forming asort of ring within which the combatants were to engage. 

The interest which would be naturally felt by such an encounter, wasincreased very much by the strong contrast that was observed in theappearance of the warriors. Romulus was very young, and though talland athletic in form, his countenance exhibited still the expressionof softness and delicacy characteristic of youth. Acron, on the otherhand, was a war-worn veteran, rugged, hardy, and stern; and thethrongs of martial spectators that surrounded the field, when they sawthe combatants as they came forward to engage, anticipated a veryunequal contest. Romulus was nevertheless victorious. As he went intothe battle, he made a vow to Jupiter, that if he conquered his foe, hewould ascribe to the god all the glory of the victory, and he wouldset up the arms and spoils of Acron at Rome, as a trophy sacred toJupiter, in honor of the divine aid through which the conquest shouldbe achieved. It was in consequence of this vow, as the old historianssay, that Romulus prevailed in the combat. At all events, he didprevail. Acron was slain, and while Romulus was stripping the fallenbody of its armor on the field, his men were pursuing the army ofAcron, for the soldiers fled in dismay toward their city, as soon asthey saw that the single combat had gone against their king. 

Cænina was not in a condition to make any defense, and it was readilytaken. When the city was thus in the power of Romulus, he called theinhabitants together, and said to them, that he cherished no hostileor resentful feelings toward them. On the contrary, he wished to havethem his allies and friends, and he promised them, that if they wouldabandon Cænina, and go with him to Rome, they should all be receivedas brothers, and be at once incorporated into the Roman state, andadmitted to all the privileges of citizens. The people of Cænina, whenthe first feelings of terror and distress which their falling into thepower of their enemies naturally awakened, had been in some measureallayed, readily acquiesced in this arrangement, and were alltransferred to Rome. Their coming made a great addition not only tothe population and strength of the city, but vastly increased thecelebrity and fame of Romulus in the estimation of the surroundingnations. 

This victory over Acron, and the annexation of his dominions to theRoman commonwealth, are considered of great historical importance, asthe original type and exemplar of the whole subsequent foreign policyof the Roman state;--a policy marked by courage and energy in martialaction on the field, and by generosity in dealing with the conquered;and which was so successful in its results, that it was the means ofextending the Roman power from kingdom to kingdom, and from continentto continent, until the vast organization almost encircled the world. 

Romulus faithfully fulfilled the vow which he had made to Jupiter. Onthe return of the army to Rome, the soldiers, by his directions, cutdown a small oak-tree, and trimming the branches at the top, andshortening them as much as was necessary for the purpose, they hungthe weapons and armor of Acron upon it, and marched with it thus, intriumph into the city. Romulus walked in the midst of the procession, a crown of laurel upon his head, and his long hair hanging down uponhis shoulders. Thus the victors entered the city, greeted all the wayby the shouts and acclamations of the people, who had assembled, --men, women, and children, --at the gates and upon the tops of the houses. When the long procession had thus passed in, tables for the soldierswere spread in the streets and public squares, and the whole day wasspent in festivity and rejoicing. This was the first Romantriumph, --the original model and example of those magnificent andimposing spectacles which in subsequent ages became the wonder of theworld. 

The spoils which had been brought in upon the oak were solemnly setup, on one of the hills within the city, as a trophy to Jupiter. Asmall temple was erected expressly to receive them. This temple wasvery small, being but five feet wide and ten feet long. 

A short time after these transactions two other cities wereincorporated into the Roman state. The name of these cities wereCrustumenium and Antemnæ. Some women from these cities had been seizedat Rome when the Sabine women were taken, and the inhabitants had beenever since that period meditating plans of revenge. They were notstrong enough to wage open war against Romulus, but they began at lastto make hostile incursions into the Roman territories by means of suchsmall bands of armed men as they had the means of raising. Romulusimmediately organized bodies of troops sufficient for the purpose, andthen suddenly, and, as it would seem, without giving the kings ofthese cities any previous warning, he appeared before the walls andcaptured the cities before the inhabitants had time to recover fromtheir consternation. 

He then sent to all the women in Rome who had formerly belonged tothese cities, summoning them to appear before him at his public placeof audience in the city, and in the presence of the Roman Senate. Thewomen were exceedingly terrified at receiving this summons. Theysupposed that death or some other terrible punishment, was to beinflicted upon them in retribution for the offenses committed by theircountrymen, and they came into the senate-house, hiding their faces intheir robes, and crying out with grief and terror. Romulus bid themcalm their fears, assuring them that he intended them no injury. "Yourcountrymen, " said he, "preferred war to the peaceful alternative offriendship and alliance which we offered them; and the fortune of warto which they thus chose to appeal, has decided against them. Theyhave now fallen into our hands, and are wholly at our mercy. We donot, however, mean to do them any harm. We spare and forgive them foryour sakes. We intend to invite them to come and live with us and withyou at Rome, so that you can once more experience the happiness ofbeing joined to your fathers and brothers as well as your husbands. Weshall not destroy or even injure their cities; but shall send some ofour own citizens to people them, so that they may become fullyincorporated into the Roman commonwealth. Thus, your fathers andbrothers, and all your countrymen, receive the boon of life, liberty, and happiness through you; and all that we ask of you in return, isthat you will continue your conjugal affection and fidelity to yourRoman husbands, and seek to promote the harmony and happiness of thecity by every means in your power. "

Of course such transactions as these attracted great attentionthroughout the country, and both the valor with which Romulusencountered his enemies while they resisted and opposed him, and thegenerosity with which he admitted them to an honorable alliance withhim when they were reduced to submission, were universally applauded. In fact, there began to be formed a strong public sentiment in favorof the new colony, and the influx to it of individual adventurers, from all parts of the country, rapidly increased. In one instance afamous chieftain named Cælius, a general of the Etrurians who livednorth of the Tiber, brought over the whole army under his command in abody, to join the new colony. New and special arrangements werenecessary to be made at Rome for receiving so sudden and so large anaccession to the numbers of the people, and accordingly a neweminence, one which had been hitherto without the city, was nowinclosed, and brought within the pomœrium. This hill received thename of Cælius, from the general whose army occupied it. The city wasextended too at the same time on the other side toward the Tiber. Thewalls were continued down to the very bank of the river, and thencecarried along the bank so as to present a continued defense on thatside, except at one place where there was a great gate leading to thewater. 

During all this time, however, the Sabines still cherished the spiritof resentment and hostility, and instead of being conciliated by theforbearance and generosity of the Romans, were only excited to greaterjealousy and ill-will at witnessing the proofs of their increasinginfluence and power. They employed themselves in maturing their plansfor a grand onset against the new colony, and with the intention tomake the blow which they were about to strike effectual and final theytook time to arrange their preparations on the most extensive scale, and to mature them in the most deliberate and thorough manner. Theyenlisted troops; they collected stores of provisions and munitions ofwar; they formed alliances with such states lying beyond them as theycould draw into their quarrel; and finally, when all things wereready, they assembled their forces upon the frontier, and prepared forthe onset. The name of the general who was placed in command of thismighty host was Titus Tatius. 

In the mean time, Romulus and the people of the city were equally busyin making preparations for defense. They procured and laid up inmagazines, great stores of provisions for the use of the city. Theystrengthened and extended the walls, and built new ramparts and towerswherever they were needed. Numitor rendered very essential aid to hisgrandson in these preparations. He sent supplies of weapons to him forthe use of the men, and furnished various military engines, such aswere used in those times in the attack and defense of besieged cities. In fact, the preparations on both sides were of the most extensivecharacter, and seemed to portend a very resolute and determinedcontest. 

When all things were thus ready, the Sabines, before actually strikingthe blow for which they had been so long and so deliberatelypreparing, concluded to send one more final embassy to Romulus, todemand the surrender of the women. This was of course only a matter ofform, as they must have known well from what had already passed thatRomulus would not now yield to such a proposal. He did not yield. Hesent back word in answer to their demand, that the Sabine women wereall well settled in Rome, and were contented and happy there withtheir husbands and friends, and that he could not think now ofdisturbing them. This answer having been received, the Sabinesprepared for the onset. 

There was a certain tract of country surrounding Rome which belongedto the people of the city, and was cultivated by them. This land wasused partly for tillage and partly for the pasturage of cattle, butprincipally for the latter, as the rearing of flocks and herds was, for various reasons, a more advantageous mode of procuring food forman in those ancient days than the culture of the ground. The ruralpopulation, therefore, of the Roman territory consisted chiefly ofherdsmen; and when the approaching danger from the Sabines becameimminent, Romulus called all these herdsmen in, and required theflocks of sheep and the herds of cattle to be driven to the rear ofthe city, and shut up in an inclosure there, where they could be moreeasily defended. Thus the Sabine army found, when they were ready tocross the frontier, that the Roman territory, on that side, wasdeserted and solitary; and that there was nothing to oppose them inadvancing across it almost to the very gates of Rome. 

They advanced accordingly, and when they came near to the city theyfound that Romulus had taken possession of two hills without thewalls, where he had entrenched himself in great force. These two hillswere named the Esquiline and Quirinal hills. The city itself includedtwo other hills, namely, the Palatine and the Capitoline. TheCapitoline hill was the one on which the asylum had formerly beenbuilt, and it was now the citadel. The citadel was surrounded on allparts with ramparts and towers which overlooked and commanded all theneighboring country. The command of this fortress was given toTarpeius, a noble Roman. He had a daughter named Tarpeia, whose nameafterward became greatly celebrated in history, on account of thepart which she took in the events of this siege, as will presentlyappear. 

At the foot of the Capitoline hill, and on the western side of it, that is, the side away from the city, there was a spacious plain whichwas afterward included within the limits of the city, and used as aparade-ground, under the name of Campus Martius, which words mean the"War Field. " This field was now, however, an open plain, and theSabine army advancing to it, encamped upon it. The Sabine forces weremuch more numerous than those of the Romans, but the latter were sowell guarded and protected by their walls and fortifications, thatTitus Tatius saw no feasible way of attacking them with any prospectof success. At last, one day as some of his officers were walkingaround the Capitoline hill, looking at the walls of the citadel, Tarpeia came to one of the gates, which was in a retired and solitaryposition, and entered into a parley with the men. The story of whatfollowed is variously related by different historians, and it is nowdifficult to ascertain the actual truth respecting it. The accountgenerally received is this:--

[Illustration: PROMISING THE BRACELETS. ]

Tarpeia had observed the soldiers from the walls, and her attentionhad been attracted by the bracelets and rings which they wore; and shefinally made an agreement with the Sabines that she would open thepostern gate in the night, and let them in, if they would give herwhat they wore upon their arms, meaning the ornaments which hadattracted her attention. The Sabines bound themselves to do this andthen went away. Titus Tatius, accordingly, when informed of thisarrangement, detailed a strong detachment of troops, and gave themorders to repair at night in a very silent and secret manner to thegate which had been designated as the place where they were to be letin. It is asserted, however, by some writers, that this apparenttreachery on the part of Tarpeia was only a deep-laid stratagem on herpart to draw the Sabines into a snare; and that she sent word toRomulus, informing him of the agreement which she had made, in orderthat he might secretly dispatch a strong force to take their positionat the gate, and intercept and capture the Sabine party as soon asthey should come in. But if this was Tarpeia's design, it totallyfailed. The Sabines, when they came at midnight to the postern gatewhich Tarpeia opened for them, came in sufficient force to bear downall opposition; and in fulfillment of their promise to give Tarpeiawhat they wore upon their arms they threw their heavy bucklers uponher until she was crushed down beneath the weight of them and killed. 

A steep rock which forms that side of the Capitoline hill is calledthe Tarpeian rock, in memory of this maiden, to the present day. 

In this way the Sabines gained possession of the citadel, thoughRomulus still held the main city. The Romans were of course extremelydisconcerted at the loss of the citadel, and Romulus, finding that thedanger was now extremely imminent, resolved no longer to stand on thedefensive, but to come out upon the plain and offer the Sabinesbattle. He accordingly brought his forces out of the city and took upa strong position with them, between the Capitoline and Palatinehills, with his front toward the Campus Martius, where the main bodyof the Sabines were posted. Thus the armies were confronted againsteach other on the plain, the Romans holding the city and the Palatinehill as a stronghold to retreat to in case of necessity, while theSabines in the same manner could seek refuge on the Capitoline hilland in the citadel. 

Things being in this state a series of desperate but partial contestsensued, which were continued for several days, when at length ageneral battle came on. During all this time the walls of the city andof the citadel were lined with spectators who had ascended to witnessthe combats; for from these walls and from the declivities of thehills, the whole plain could be looked down upon as if it were a map. The battle continued all day. At night both parties were exhausted, and the field was covered with the dead and dying, but neither sidehad gained a victory. The next day by common consent they suspendedthe combat in order to take care of the wounded, and to bury thebodies of the dead. 

After the interval of a day, which was spent, on both sides, inremoving the horrid relics of the previous combats, and in gatheringfresh strength and fresh desperation and rage for the conflicts yet tocome, the struggle was renewed. The soldiers fought now, on thisrenewal of the battle, with more dreadful and deadly ferocity thanever. Various incidents occurred during the day to give one party orthe other a local or temporary advantage, but neither side whollyprevailed. At one time Romulus himself was exposed to the mostimminent personal danger, and for a time it was thought that he wasactually killed. The Romans had gained some great advantage over aparty of the Sabines, and the latter were rushing in a headlong flightto the citadel, the Romans pursuing them and hoping to follow them in, in the confusion, and thus regain possession of the fortress. Toprevent this the Sabines within the citadel and on the rocks abovethrew stones down upon the Romans. One of these stones struck Romuluson the head, and he fell down stunned and senseless under the blow. His men were extremely terrified at this disaster, and abandoning thepursuit of their enemies they took up the body of Romulus and carriedit into the city. It was found, however, that he was not seriouslyinjured. He soon recovered from the effects of the blow and returnedinto the battle. 

Another incident which occurred in the course of these battles hasbeen commemorated in history, by having been the means of giving aname to a small lake or pool which was afterward brought within thelimits of the city. A Sabine general named Curtius happened at onetime to encounter Romulus in a certain part of the field, and a longand desperate combat ensued between the two champions. Other soldiersgradually came up and mingled in the fray, until at length Curtius, finding himself wounded and bleeding, and surrounded by enemies, fledfor his life. Romulus pursued him for a short distance, but Curtiusat length came suddenly upon a small swampy pool, which was formed ofwater that had been left by the inundations of the river in some olddeserted channel, and which was now covered and almost concealed bysome sort of mossy and floating vegetation. Curtius running headlong, and paying little heed to his steps fell into this hole, and sank inthe water. Romulus supposed of course that he would be drowned there, and so turned away and went to find some other enemy. Curtius, however, succeeded in crawling out of the pond into which he hadfallen; and in commemoration of the incident the pond was named LakeCurtius, which name it retained for centuries afterward, when, notonly had all the water disappeared, but the place itself had beenfilled up, and had been covered with streets and houses. 

The combats between the Romans and the Sabines were continued forseveral days, during all which time the Sabine women, on whose accountit was that this dreadful quarrel had arisen, were suffering thegreatest anxiety and distress. They loved their fathers and brothers, but then they loved their husbands too; and they were overwhelmedwith anguish at the thought that day after day those who were equallydear to them were engaged in fighting and destroying one another, andthat they could do nothing to arrest so unnatural a hostility. 

At length, however, after suffering extreme distress for many days, acrisis arrived when they found that they could interpose. Both partieshad become somewhat weary of the contest. Neither could prevail overthe other, and yet neither was willing to yield. The Sabines could notbring themselves to submit to so humiliating an alternative as towithdraw from Rome and leave their daughters and sisters in thecaptors' hands, after all the grand preparations which they had madefor retaking them. And on the other hand the Romans could not takethose, who, whatever had been their previous history, were now livinghappily as wives and mothers, each in her own house in the city, andgive them up to an army of invaders, demanding them with threats andviolence, without deep dishonor. Thus, though there was a pause in theconflict, and both parties were weary of it, neither was willing toyield, and both were preparing to return to the struggle with newdetermination and vigor. 

The Sabine women thought that they might now interpose. A lady namedHersilia, who is often mentioned as one of the most prominent amongthe number, proposed this measure and made the arrangements forcarrying it into effect. She assembled her countrywomen and explainedto them her plan, which was that they should go in a body to the RomanSenate, and ask permission to intercede between the contendingnations, and plead for peace. 

The company of women, taking their children with them, all of whomwere yet very young, went accordingly in a body to the senate-chamber, and asked to be admitted. The doors were opened to them, and they wentin. They all appeared to be in great distress and agitation. The griefand anxiety which they had suffered during the progress of the warstill continued, and they begged the Senate to let them go out to thecamp of the Sabines, and endeavor to persuade them to make peace. TheSenate were disposed to consent. The women wished to take theirchildren with them, but some of the Romans imagined that there might, perhaps, be danger, that under pretense of interceding for peace, theywere really intending to make their escape from Rome altogether. So itwas insisted that they should leave their children behind them ashostages for their return, excepting that such as had two childrenwere allowed to take one, which plan it was thought would aid them inmoving the compassion of their Sabine relatives. 

The women, accordingly, left the senate-chamber, and with theirchildren in their arms, their hair disheveled, their robes disordered, and their countenances wan with grief, went in mournful procession outthrough the gate of the city. They passed across the plain andadvanced toward the citadel. They were admitted, and after some delay, were ushered into the council of the Sabines. Here their tears andexclamations of grief broke forth anew. When silence was in somemeasure restored, Hersilia addressed the Sabine chieftains, saying, that she and her companions had come to beg their countrymen to put anend to the war. "We know, " said she, "that you are waging it on ouraccount, and we see in all that you have done proofs of your love forus. In fact, it was our supposed interests which led you to commenceit, but now our real interests require that it should be ended. It istrue that when we were first seized by the Romans we felt greatlywronged, but having submitted to our fate, we have now become settledin our new homes, and are contented and happy in them. We love ourhusbands and love our children; and we are treated with the utmostkindness and respect by all. Do not then, under a mistaken kindnessfor us, attempt to tear us away again, or continue this dreadful war, which, though ostensibly on our account, and for our benefit, isreally making us inexpressibly miserable. "

This intercession produced the effect which might have been expectedfrom it. The Sabines and Romans immediately entered upon negotiationsfor peace, and peace is easily made where both parties are honestlydesirous of making it. In fact, a great reaction took place, so thatfrom the reckless and desperate hostility which the two nations hadfelt for each other, there succeeded so friendly a sentiment, that inthe end a treaty of union was made between the two nations. It wasagreed that the two nations should be merged into one. The Sabineterritory was to be annexed to that of Rome, and Titus Tatius, withthe principal Sabine chieftains, were to remove to Rome, which wasthenceforth to be the capital of the new kingdom. In a word never wasa reconciliation between two belligerent nations so sudden and socomplete. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE CONCLUSION. 

B. C. 764-717

Romulus reigns in conjunction with the Sabine king. --The RomanForum. --Growth of the city. --Bold and comprehensivemeasures. --Cameria. --Difficulty with Titus Tatius. --Controversybetween Romulus and Tatius. --The difficulty at Lavinium. --Tatiuskilled. --Romulus once more sole king. --Rome assumes a generaljurisdiction over other states. --Foundation of the future greatnessof Rome. --Circumstances connected with the death of Romulus. --Rumorsin circulation. --Public opinion. --Proculus's story. --The ghost ofRomulus. --The Romans satisfied. --The real truth not to be known. --Theinterregnum. --A new king. 

After the termination of the Sabine war Romulus continued to reignmany years, and his reign, although no very exact and systematichistory of it was recorded at the time, seems to have presented theusual variety of incidents and vicissitudes; and yet, notwithstandingoccasional and partial reverses, the city, and the kingdom connectedwith it, made rapid progress in wealth and population. 

For four or five years after the union of the Sabines with the Romans, Titus Tatius was in some way or other associated with Romulus in thegovernment of the united kingdom. Romulus, during all this time, hadhis house and his court on the Palatine hill, where the city had beenoriginally built, and where most of the Romans lived. Thehead-quarters of the Sabine chieftain were, on the other hand, uponthe Capitoline hill, which was the place on which the citadel wassituated that his troops had taken possession of in the course of thewar, and which it seems they continued to occupy after the peace. Thespace between the two hills was set apart as a market-place, or_forum_, as it was called in their language, --that place beingdesignated for the purpose on account of its central and convenientsituation. When afterward that portion of the city became filled as itdid with magnificent streets and imposing architectural edifices, thespace which Romulus had set apart for a market remained an open publicsquare, and as it was the scene in which transpired some of the mostremarkable events connected with Roman history, it became renownedthroughout the world under the name of the Roman Forum. 

In consequence of the union of the Romans and the Sabines, and of therapid growth of the city in population and power which followed, theRoman state began soon to rise to so high a position in relation tothe surrounding cities and kingdoms, as soon to take precedence ofthem altogether. This was owing, however, in part undoubtedly, to thecharacter of the men who governed at Rome. The measures which theyadopted in founding the city, and in sustaining it through the firstyears of its existence, as described in the foregoing chapters, wereall of a very extraordinary character, and evinced very extraordinaryqualities in the men who devised them. These measures were bold, comprehensive and sagacious, and they were carried out with a certaincombination of courage and magnanimity which always gives to those whopossess it, and who are in a position to exercise it on a commandingscale, great ascendency over the minds of men. They who possess thesequalities generally feel their power, and are usually not slow toassert it. A singular and striking instance of this occurred not manyyears after the peace with the Sabines. There was a city at somedistance from Rome called Cameria, whose inhabitants were a lawlesshorde, and occasionally parties of them made incursions, as was said, into the surrounding countries, for plunder. The Roman Senate sentword to the government of the city that such accusations were madeagainst them, and very coolly cited them to appear at Rome for trial. The Camerians of course refused to come. The Senate then declared waragainst them, and sent an army to take possession of the city, proceeding to act in the case precisely as if the Roman governmentconstituted a judicial tribunal, having authority to exercisejurisdiction, and to enforce law and order, among all the nationsaround them. In fact, Rome continued to assert and to maintain thisauthority over a wider and wider circle every year, until in thecourse of some centuries after Romulus's day, she made herself thearbiter of the world. 

Titus Tatius shared the supreme power with Romulus at Rome for severalyears, and the two monarchs continued during this time to exercisetheir joint power in a much more harmonious manner than would havebeen supposed possible. At length, however, causes of disagreementbegan to occur, and in the end open dissension took place, in thecourse of which Tatius came to his end in a very sudden and remarkablemanner. A party of soldiers from Rome, it seems, had been committingsome deed of violence at Lavinium, the ancient city which Æneas hadbuilt when he first arrived in Latium. The people of Laviniumcomplained to Romulus against these marauders. It happened, however, that the guilty men were chiefly Sabines, and in the discussions whichtook place at Rome afterward in relation to the affair, Tatius tooktheir part, and endeavored to shield them, while Romulus seemeddisposed to give them up to the Lavinians for punishment. "They arerobbers and murderers, " said Romulus, "and we ought not to shield themfrom the penalty due to their crimes. " "They are Roman citizens, " saidTatius, "and we must not give them up to a foreign state. " Thecontroversy became warm; parties were formed; and at last theexasperation became so great that when the Lavinian envoys, who hadcome to Rome to demand the punishment of the robbers, were returninghome, a gang of Tatius's men intercepted them on the way and killedthem. 

This of course increased the excitement and the difficulty in atenfold degree. Romulus immediately sent to Lavinium to express hisdeep regret at what had occurred, and his readiness to do every thingin his power to expiate the offense which his countrymen hadcommitted. He would arrest these murderers, he said, and send them toLavinium, and he would come himself, with Tatius, to Lavinium, andthere make an expiatory offering to the gods, in attestation of theabhorrence which they both felt for so atrocious a crime as waylayingand murdering the embassadors of a friendly city. Tatius was compelledto assent to these measures, though he yielded very reluctantly. Hecould not openly defend such a deed as the murder of the envoys; andso he consented to accompany Romulus to Lavinium, to make theoffering, but he secretly arranged a plan for rescuing the murderersfrom the Lavinians, after they had been given up. Accordingly, whilehe and Romulus were at Lavinium offering the sacrifices, news camethat the murderers of the envoys, on their way from Rome to Lavinium, had been rescued and allowed to escape. This news so exasperated thepeople of Lavinium against Tatius, for they considered him asunquestionably the secret author and contriver of the deed, that theyrose upon him at the festival, and murdered him with the butcherknives and spits which had been used for slaughtering and roasting theanimals. They then formed a grand procession and escorted Romulus outof the city in safety with loud acclamations. 

The government of Lavinium, as soon as the excitement of the scene wasover, fearing the resentment which they very naturally supposedRomulus would feel at the murder of his colleague, seized theringleaders of the riot, and sent them bound to Rome, to place them atthe disposal of the Roman government. Romulus sent them back unharmed, directing them to say to the Lavinian government, that he consideredthe death of Tatius, though inflicted in a mode lawless andunjustifiable, as nevertheless, in itself, only a just expiation forthe murder of the Lavinian embassadors, which Tatius had instigated orauthorized. 

The Sabines of Rome were for a time greatly exasperated at theseoccurrences, but Romulus succeeded in gradually quieting and calmingthem, and they finally acquiesced in his decision. Romulus thus becameonce more the sole and undisputed master of Rome. 

After this the progress of the city in wealth and prosperity, fromyear to year, was steady and sure, interrupted, it is true, byoccasional and temporary reverses, but with no real retrocession atany time. Causes of disagreement arose from time to time withneighboring states, and, in such cases, Romulus always first sent asummons to the party implicated, whether king or people, citing themto appear and answer for their conduct before the Roman Senate. Ifthey refused to come, he sent an armed force against them, as if hewere simply enforcing the jurisdiction of a tribunal of justice. Theresult usually was that the refractory state was compelled to submit, and its territories were added to those of the kingdom of Rome. Thusthe boundaries of the new empire were widening and extending everyyear. 

Romulus paid great attention, in the mean time, to every thingpertaining to the internal organization of the state, so as to bringevery part of the national administration into the best possiblecondition. The municipal police, the tribunals of justice, the socialinstitutions and laws of the industrial classes, the discipline of thetroops, the enlargement and increase of the fortifications of thecity, and the supply of arms, and stores, and munitions of war, --andevery other subject, in fact, connected with the welfare andprosperity of the city, --occupied his thoughts in every interval ofpeace and tranquillity. In consequence of the exertions which he made, and the measures which he adopted, order and system prevailed moreand more in every department, and the community became every yearbetter organized, and more and more consolidated; so that the capacityof the city to receive accessions to the population increased evenfaster than accessions were made. In a word, the solid foundationswere laid of that vast superstructure, which, in subsequent ages, became the wonder of the world. 

Notwithstanding, however, all this increasing greatness andprosperity, Romulus was not without rivals and enemies, even among hisown people at Rome. The leading senators became, at last, envious andjealous of his power. They said that he himself grew imperious anddomineering in spirit, as he grew older, and manifested a pride andhaughtiness of demeanor which excited their ill-will. He assumed toomuch authority, they said, in the management of public affairs, as ifhe were an absolute and despotic sovereign. He wore a purple robe onpublic occasions, as a badge of royalty. He organized a body-guard ofthree hundred young troopers, who rode before him whenever he movedabout the city; and in all respects assumed such pomp and parade inhis demeanor, and exercised such a degree of arbitrary power in hisacts, as made him many enemies. The whole Senate became, at length, greatly disaffected. 

At last one day, on occasion of a great review which took place at alittle distance from the city, there came up a sudden shower, attendedwith thunder and lightning, and the violence of the tempest was suchas to compel the soldiers to retire precipitately from the ground insearch of some place of shelter. Romulus was left with a number ofsenators who were at that time attending upon him, alone, on the shoreof a little lake which was near the place that had been chosen for theparade. After a short time the senators themselves came away from theground, and returned to the city; but Romulus was not with them. Thestory which they told was that in the middle of the tempest, Romulushad been suddenly enveloped in a flame which seemed to come down in abright flash of lightning from the clouds, and immediately afterwardhad been taken up in the flame to heaven. 

[Illustration: THE DEATH OF ROMULUS. ]

This strange story was but half believed even at first, by thepeople, and very soon rumors began to circulate in the city thatRomulus had been murdered by the senators who were around him at thetime of the shower, --they having seized the occasion afforded by themomentary absence of his guards, and by their solitary position. Therewere various surmises in respect to the disposal which the assassinshad made of the body. The most obvious supposition was that it hadbeen sunk in the lake. There was, however, a horrible reportcirculated that the senators had disposed of it by cutting it up intosmall pieces, and conveying it away, each taking a portion, undertheir robes. 

Of course these rumors produced great agitation and excitementthroughout the city. The current of public sentiment set stronglyagainst the senators. Still as nothing could be positively ascertainedin respect to the transaction, the mystery seemed to grow more darkand dreadful every day, and the public mind was becoming more and moredeeply agitated. At length, however, the mystery was suddenlyexplained by a revelation, which, whatever may be thought of it at thepresent day, was then entirely satisfactory to the whole community. 

One of the most prominent and distinguished of the senators, namedProculus, one who it seems had not been present among the othersenators in attendance upon Romulus at the time when he disappeared, came forward one day before a grand assembly which had been convenedfor the purpose, and announced to them in the most solemn manner, thatthe spirit of Romulus had appeared to him in a visible form, and hadassured him that the story which the other senators had told of theascension of their chieftain to heaven in a flame of fire was reallytrue. "I was journeying, " said Proculus, "in a solitary place, whenRomulus appeared to me. At first I was exceedingly terrified. The formof the vision was taller than that of a mortal man, and it was clothedin armor of the most resplendent brightness. As soon as I had in somemeasure recovered my composure I spoke to it. 'Why, ' said I, 'have youleft us so suddenly? and especially why did you leave us at such atime, and in such a way, as to bring suspicion and reproach on theRoman senators?' 'I left you, ' said he, 'because it pleased the godsto call me back again to heaven, whence I originally came. It was nolonger necessary for me to remain on earth, for Rome is nowestablished, and her future greatness and glory are sure. Go back toRome and communicate this to the people. Tell them that if theycontinue industrious, virtuous, and brave, the time will come whentheir city will be the mistress of the world; and that I, no longerits king, am henceforth to be its tutelar divinity. '"

The people of Rome were overjoyed to hear this communication. Theirdoubts and suspicions were now all removed; the senators at oncerecovered their good standing in the public regard, and all was oncemore peace and harmony. Altars were immediately erected to Romulus, and the whole population of the city joined in making sacrifices andin paying other divine honors to his memory. 

The declaration of Proculus that he had seen the spirit of Romulus, and his report of the conversation which the spirit had addressed tohim, constituted proof of the highest kind, according to the ideaswhich prevailed in those ancient days. In modern times, however, thereis no faith in such a story, and the truth in respect to the end ofRomulus can now never be known. 

After the death of Romulus the senators undertook to govern the Statethemselves, holding the supreme power one by one, in regular rotation. This plan was, however, not found to succeed, and after an interregnumof about a year, the people elected another king. 

 THE END. 

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

1. Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors, and toensure consistent spelling and punctuation in this etext; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the original book. 

2. The chapter summaries in this text were originally published asbanners in the page headers, and have been moved to beginning of thechapter for the reader's convenience. 

3. In the chart on page 46, detailing the original Greek alphabet, thetypesetter's appear to have missed the 7th letter, kappa. Thecorrection has been made, based on the discussion in "History of theGreek Alphabet, " by E. A. Sophocles, published in 1848, by GeorgeNichols, Boston.