Historic Tales.
Volume 11.
by Charles Morris.
HOW ROME WAS FOUNDED.
Very far back in time, more than twenty-six hundred years ago, on the banks of a small Italian river, known as the Tiber, were laid the foundations of a city which was in time to become the conqueror of the civilized world. Of the early days of this renowned city of Rome we know very little. What is called its history is really only legend,--stories invented by poets, or ancient facts which became gradually changed into romances. The Romans believed them, but that is no reason why we should.
They believed many things which we doubt. And yet these romantic stories are the only existing foundation-stones of actual Roman history, and we can do no better than give them for what little kernel of fact they may contain.
In our tales from Greek history it has been told how the city of Troy was destroyed, and how aeneas, one of its warrior chiefs, escaped. After many adventures this fugitive Trojan prince reached Italy and founded there a new kingdom. His son Ascanius afterwards built the city of Alba Longa (the long white city) not far from the site of the later city of Rome. Three hundred years passed away, many kings came and went, and then Numitor, a descendant of aeneas, came to the throne. But Numitor had an ambitious brother, Amulius, who robbed him of his crown, and, while letting him live, killed his only son and shut up his daughter Silvia in the temple of the goddess Vesta, to guard the ever-burning fire of that deity.
Here Silvia had twin sons, whose father was said, in the old superstitious fashion, to be Mars, the God of War. The usurper, fearing that these sons of Mars might grow up and deprive him of his throne, ordered that they and their mother should be flung into the Tiber, then swollen with recent rains. The mother was drowned, but destiny, or Mars, preserved the sons. Borne onward in their basket cradle, they were at length swept ashore where the river had overflown its banks at the foot of the afterwards famous Palatine Hill. Here the cradle was over-turned near the roots of a wild fig-tree, and the infants left at the edge of the shallow waters.
What follows sounds still more like fable. A she-wolf that came to the water to drink chanced to see the helpless children, and carried them to her cave, where she fed them with her milk. As they grew older a woodpecker brought them food, flying in and out of the cave. At length Faustulus, a herdsman of the king, found these lusty infants in the wolf's den, took them home, and gave them to his wife Laurentia to bring up with her own children. He gave them the names of Romulus and Remus.
Years went by, and the river waifs grew to be strong, handsome, and brave young men. They became leaders among the shepherds and herdsmen, and helped them to fight the wild animals that troubled their flocks.
Their home was on the Palatine Hill, and the cattle and sheep for which they cared were those of the wicked king Amulius. Near by was another hill, called the Aventine, and on this the deposed king Numitor fed his flocks. In course of time a quarrel arose between the herdsmen on the two hills, and Numitor's men, having laid an ambush, took Remus prisoner and carried him to Alba, where their master dwelt. This no sooner became known to Romulus than he gathered the young men of the Palatine Hill, and set out in all haste to the rescue of his brother.
Meanwhile, Remus had been taken before Numitor, who gazed on him with surprise. His face and bearing were rather those of a prince than of a shepherd, and there was something in his aspect familiar to the old king. Numitor questioned him closely, and Remus told him the story of the river, the wolf, and the herdsman. Numitor listened intently. The story took him back to the day, many years before, when his daughter Silvia and her twin sons had been thrown into the swollen stream. Could the children have escaped? Could this handsome youth be his grandson? It must be so, for his age and his story agreed.
But while they talked, Romulus and his followers reached the city, and, being forbidden entrance, made an assault on the gates. In the conflict that ensued Amulius took part and was killed, and thus Numitor and his daughter were at last revenged. Seeking Remus, the victorious shepherd prince found him with Numitor, who now fully recognized in the twin youths his long-lost grandsons. Romulus, who was now master of the city, restored his royal grandfather to the throne.
As for Romulus and Remus, their life as shepherds was at an end. It was not for youths of royal blood and warlike aspirations to spend their lives in keeping sheep. But Numitor had been restored to the throne of Alba, and they decided to build a city of their own on those hills where all their lives had been passed and on which they preferred to dwell.
The land belonged to Numitor, but he willingly granted it to them, and they led their followers to the spot.
Here a dispute arose between the brothers. The story goes that Romulus wished to have the city built on the Palatine Hill, Remus on the Aventine Hill; and that, as they could not agree, they referred the matter to their grandfather, who advised them to settle it by augury,--or by watching and forming conclusions from the flight of birds. This long continued the favorite Roman mode of settling difficult questions. It was easier than the Greek plan of going to Delphi to consult the oracle.
The two brothers now stationed themselves on the opposite hills, each with a portion of their followers, and waited patiently for what the heavens might send. The day slowly waned, and they waited in vain. Night came and deepened, and still their vigil lasted. At length, just as the sun of a new day rose in the east, Remus saw a flight of vultures, six in all. He exulted at the sight, for the vulture, as a bird which was seldom seen and did no harm to cattle or crops, was looked upon as an excellent augury. Word of his success was sent to Romulus, but he capped the story with a better one, saying that twelve vultures had just passed over his hill.
The dispute was still open. Remus had seen the birds first; Romulus had seen the most. Which had won? The question was offered to the decision of their followers, the majority of whom raised their voices in favor of Romulus. The Palatine Hill was therefore chosen as the city's site. This event took place, so Roman chronology tells us, in the year 753 B.C.
The day fixed for the beginning of the work on the new city--the 21st of April--was a day of religious ceremony and festival among the shepherds.
On this day they offered sacrifices of cakes and milk to their god Pales, asked for blessings on the flocks and herds, and implored pardon for all offences against the dryads of the woods, the nymphs of the streams, and other deities. They purified themselves by flame and their flocks by smoke, and afterwards indulged in rustic feasts and games.
This day of religious consecration was deemed by Romulus the fittest one for the important ceremony of founding his projected city.
Far back in time as it was when this took place, Italy seems to have already possessed numerous cities, many of which were to become enemies of Rome in later days. The most civilized of the Italian peoples were the Etruscans, a nation dwelling north of the Tiber, and whose many cities displayed a higher degree of civilization than those around them. From these the Romans in later days borrowed many of their religious customs, and to them Romulus sent to learn what were the proper ceremonies to use in founding a city.
The ceremonies he used were the following. At the centre of the chosen area he dug a circular pit through the soil to the hard clay beneath, and cast into this, with solemn observances, some of the first fruits of the season. Each of his men also threw in a handful of earth brought from his native land. Then the pit was filled up, an altar erected upon it, and a fire kindled on the altar. In this way was the city consecrated to the gods.
Then, having harnessed a cow and a bull of snow-white color to a plough whose share was made of brass, Romulus ploughed a furrow along the line of the future walls. He took care that the earth of the furrow should fall inward towards the city, and also to lift the plough and carry it over the places where gates were to be made. As he ploughed he uttered a prayer to Jupiter, Mars, Vesta, and other deities, invoking their favor, and praying that the new city should long endure and become an all-ruling power upon the earth.
The Romans tell us that his prayer was answered by Jupiter, who sent thunder from one side of the heavens and lightning from the other. These omens encouraged the people, who went cheerfully to the work of building the walls. But the consecration of the city was not yet completed. Its walls were to be cemented by noble blood. There is reason to believe that in those days the line of a city's walls was held as sacred, and that it was desecration to enter the enclosure at any place except those left for the gates. This may be the reason that Romulus gave orders to a man named Celer, who had charge of the building of the walls, not to let any one pass over the furrow made by the plough. However this be, the story goes that Remus, who was still angry about his brother's victory, leaped scornfully over the furrow, exclaiming, "Shall such defences as these keep your city?"
Celer, who stood by, stirred to sudden fury by this disdain, raised the spade with which he had been working, and struck Remus a blow that laid him dead upon the ground. Then, fearing vengeance for his hasty act, he rushed away with such speed that his name has since been a synonyme for quickness. Our word "celerity" is derived from it. But Romulus seems to have borne the infliction with much of that spirit of fortitude which distinguished the Romans in after-times. At least, the only effect the death of his brother had upon him, so far as we know, was in the remark, "So let it happen to all who pass over my walls!" Thus were consecrated in the blood of a brother the walls of that city which in later years was to be bathed in the blood of the brotherhood of mankind, and from which was destined to outflow a torrent of desolation over the earth.
_THE SABINE VIRGINS._
A tract of ground surrounded by walls does not make a city. Men are wanted, and of these the new city of Rome had but few. The band of shepherds who were sufficient to build a wall, or perhaps only a wooden palisade, were not enough to inhabit a city and defend it from its foes.
The neighboring people had cities of their own, except bandits and fugitives, men who had shed blood, exiles driven from their homes by their enemies, or slaves who had fled from their lords and masters.
These were the only people to be had, and Romulus invited them in by proclaiming that his city should be an asylum for all who were oppressed, a place of refuge to which any man might flee and be safe from his pursuers. He erected a temple to a god named Asylaeus,--from whom comes the word asylum,--and in this he "received and protected all, delivering none back, neither the servant to his master, the debtor to his creditor, nor the murderer into the hands of the magistrate, saying that it was a privileged place, and they could so maintain it by an order of the holy oracle, insomuch that the city grew presently very populous."
It was a quick and easy way of peopling a city. Doubtless the country held many such fugitives,--men lurking in woods or caves, hiding in mountain clefts, abiding wherever a place of safety offered,--hundreds of whom, no doubt, were glad to find a shelter among men and behind walls of defence. But it was probably a sorry population, made up of the waifs of mankind, many of whom had been slaves or murderers. There were certainly no women among this desperate horde, and Romulus appealed in vain to the neighboring cities to let his people obtain wives from among their maidens. It was not safe for the citizens of Rome to go abroad to seek wives for themselves; the surrounding peoples rejected the appeal of Romulus with scorn and disdain; unless something was done Rome bade fair to remain a city of bachelors.
In this dilemma Romulus conceived a plan to win wives for his people. He sent word abroad that he had discovered the altar of the god Consus, who presided over secret counsels, and he invited the citizens of the neighboring towns to come to Rome and take part in a feast with which he proposed to celebrate the festal day of the deity. This was the 21st of August, just four months after the founding of the city,--that is, if it was the same year.
There were to be sacrifices to Consus, where libations would be poured into the flames that consumed the victims. These would be followed by horse-and chariot-races, banquets, and other festivities. The promise of merry-making brought numerous spectators from the nearer cities, some doubtless drawn by curiosity to see what sort of a commonwealth this was that had grown up so suddenly on the sheep pastures of the Palatine Hill; and they found their wives and daughters as curious and eager for enjoyment as themselves, and brought them along, ignoring the scorn with which they had lately rejected the Roman proposals for wives. It was a religious festival, and therefore safe; so visitors came from the cities of Coenina, Crustumerium, and Antemna, and a multitude from the neighboring country of the Sabines.
The sacrifices over, the games began. The visitors, excited by the races, became scattered about among the Romans. But as the chariots, drawn by flying horses, sped swiftly over the ground, and the eyes of the visitors followed them in their flight, Romulus gave a preconcerted signal, and immediately each Roman seized a maiden whom he had managed to get near and carried her struggling and screaming from the ground. As they did so, each called out "Talasia," a word which means spinning, and which afterwards became the refrain of a Roman marriage song.
The games at once broke up in rage and confusion. But the visitors were unarmed and helpless. Their anger could be displayed only in words, and Romulus told them boldly that they owed their misfortune to their pride.
But all would go well with their daughters, he said, since their new husbands would take the place with them of home and family.
This reasoning failed to satisfy the fathers who had been robbed so violently of their daughters, and they had no sooner reached home than many of them seized their arms and marched against their faithless hosts. First came the people of Coenina; but the Romans defeated them, and Romulus killed their king. Then came the people of Crustumerium and Antemna, but they too were defeated. The prisoners were taken into Rome and made citizens of the new commonwealth.
But it was the Sabines who had most to deplore, for they had come in much the greatest number, and it was principally the Sabine virgins whom the Romans had borne off from the games. Titus Tatius, the king of the Sabines, therefore resolved upon a signal revenge, and took time to gather a large army, with which he marched against Rome.
The war that followed was marked by two romantic incidents. Near the Tiber is a hill,--afterwards known as the Capitoline Hill,--which was divided from the Palatine Hill by a low and swampy valley. On this hill Romulus had built a fortress, as a sort of outwork of his new city. It happened that Tarpeius, the chief who held this fortress, had a daughter named Tarpeia, who was deeply affected by that love of finery which has caused abundant mischief since her day. When she saw the golden collars and bracelets which many of the Sabines wore, her soul was filled with longing, and she managed to let them know that she would betray the fortress into their hands if they would give her the bright things which they wore upon their arms.
They consented, and she secretly opened to them a gate of the fortress.
But as they marched through the gate, and the traitress waited to receive her reward, the Sabine soldiers threw on her the bright shields which they wore on their arms, and she was crushed to death beneath their weight. The steep rock of the Capitoline Hill from which traitors were afterwards thrown was called, after her, the Tarpeian Rock.
[Illustration: ROME FROM THE DOME OF ST. PETER'S.]
The fortress thus captured, the valley between the hill and the city became the scene of battle. Here the Sabines repulsed the Romans, driving them back to one of their gates, through which the fugitives rushed in confusion, shutting it hastily behind them. But--if we may trust the legend--the gate refused to stay shut. It opened again of its own accord. They closed it twice more, and twice more it swung open. The victorious Sabines, who had now reached it, began to rush in; but just then, from the Temple of Janus, near by, there burst forth a mighty stream of water, which swept the Sabines away and saved Rome from capture. Therefore, in after-days, the gates of the Temple of Janus stood always wide open in time of war, that the god might go out, if he would, to fight for the Romans.
Another battle took place in the valley, and the Romans again began to flee. Romulus now prayed to Jupiter, and vowed to erect to him a temple as Jupiter Stator,--that is, the "stayer,"--if he would stay the Romans in their flight. Jupiter did so, or, at any rate, the Romans turned again to the fight, which now waxed furious. What would have been its result we cannot tell, for it was brought to an end by the other romantic incident of which we have spoken.
In fact, while the fathers of the Sabine virgins retained their anger against the Romans, the virgins themselves, who had now long been brides, had become comforted, most of them being as attached to their husbands as they had been to their parents before; and in the midst of the furious battle between their nearest relatives the lately abducted damsels were seen rushing down the Palatine Hill, and forcing their way, with appealing eyes and dishevelled hair, in between the combatants.
"Make us not twice captives!" they earnestly exclaimed, saying pathetically that if the war went on they would be widowed or fatherless, both of which sad alternatives they deplored.
The result of this appeal was a happy one. Both sides let fall their arms, and peace was declared upon the spot, it being recognized that there could be no closer bond of unity than that made by the daughters of the Sabines and wives of the Romans. The two people agreed to become one, the Sabines making their new home on the Capitoline and Quirinal Hills, and the Romans continuing to occupy the Palatine. As for the women, there was established in their honor the feast called Matronalia, in which husbands gave presents to their wives and lovers to their betrothed. Romulus and Tatius were to rule jointly, and afterwards the king of Rome should be alternately of Roman and Sabine birth.
After five years Tatius was killed in a quarrel, and Romulus became sole king. Under him Rome grew rapidly. He was successful in his wars, and enriched his people with the spoils of his enemies In rule he was just and gentle, and punished those guilty of crime not by death, but by fines of sheep or oxen. It is said, though, that he grew somewhat arrogant, and was accustomed to receive his people dressed in scarlet and lying on a couch of state, where he was surrounded by a body of young men called _Celeres_, from the speed with which they flew to execute his orders.
For nearly forty years his reign continued, and then his end came strangely. One day he called the people together in the Field of Mars.
But suddenly there arose a frightful storm, with such terrible thunder and lightning and such midnight darkness that the people fled homeward in affright through the drenching rain. That was the last of Romulus. He was never seen in life again. He may have been slain by enemies, but the popular belief was that Mars, his father, had carried him up to heaven in his chariot. All that the people knew was that one night, when Proculus Julius, a friend of the king, was on his way from Alba to Rome, he met Romulus by the way, his stature beyond that of man, and his face showing the beauty of the gods.
Proculus asked him why he had left the people to sorrow and wicked surmises, for some said that the senators had made away with him.
Romulus replied that it was the wish of the gods that, after building a city that was destined to the greatest empire and glory, he should go to heaven and dwell with the gods.
"Go and tell my people that they must not weep for me any more," he said; "but bid them to be brave and warlike, and so shall they make my city the greatest on the earth."