The Historians' History of the World 05 [The Roman Republic]

The other consul, A. Cornelius Cossus, having been directed to invade Samnium, led his army to Saticula, the nearest Samnite town to Capua. The Apennines in this part run from north to south, in parallel ranges, enclosing fertile valleys, and the road to Beneventum passes over them. The consul, advancing carelessly, had crossed the first range, and his line of march had reached the valley, when on looking back the Romans saw the wooded heights behind them occupied by a Samnite army. To advance was dangerous, retreat seemed impossible. In this perplexity a tribune named P. Decius proposed to occupy with the hastats and principes of one legion (that is, sixteen hundred men,) an eminence over the way along which the Samnites were coming. The consul gave permission; Decius seized the height, which he maintained against all the efforts of the enemy till the favourable moment was lost, and the consul had led back his army and gained the ridge. When night came, the Samnites remained about the hill and went to sleep; in the second watch Decius led down his men in silence, and they took their way through the midst of the slumbering foes. They had got halfway through, when one of the Romans in stepping over the Samnites struck against a shield; the noise awoke those at hand; the alarm spread; the Romans then raised a shout, fell on all they met, and got off without loss. They reached their own camp while it was yet night, but they halted outside of it till the day was come. At dawn, when their presence was announced, all poured forth to greet them, and Decius was led in triumph through the camp to the consul, who began to extol his deeds; but Decius interrupted him, saying that now was the time to take the enemy by surprise. The army was then led out, and the scattered Samnites were fallen on and routed with great slaughter. After the victory the consul gave Decius a golden crown and a hundred oxen, one of which was white with gilded horns; this Decius offered in sacrifice to Father Mars, the rest he gave to his comrades in peril, and each soldier presented them with a pound of corn and a pint (sextarius) of wine, while the consul, giving them each an ox and two garments, assured them of a double allowance of corn in future. The army further wove the obsidional crown of grass and placed it on the brows of Decius, and a similar crown was bestowed on him by his own men. Such were the generous arts by which Rome fostered the heroic spirit in her sons!

Meantime the Samnites at Suessula had been largely reinforced, and they spread their ravages over Campania. The two consular armies being united under Valerius, came and encamped hard by them, and as Valerius had left all the baggage and camp-followers behind, the Roman army occupied a much smaller camp than was usual to their numbers. Deceived by the size of their camp the Samnites clamoured to storm it, but the caution of their leaders withheld them. Necessity soon compelled them to scour the country in quest of provisions, and emboldened by the consul’s inactivity they went to greater and greater distances. This was what Valerius waited for; he suddenly assailed and took their camp, which was but slightly guarded; then leaving two legions to keep it, he divided the rest of the army, and falling on the scattered Samnites cut them everywhere to pieces. The shields of the slain and fugitives amounted, we are told, to forty thousand, the captured standards to one hundred and seventy. Both consuls triumphed.

While the Roman arms were thus engaged in Campania, the Latins invaded the territory of the Pelignians, the kinsmen and allies of the Samnites.

No military events are recorded of the year 342, but a strange tale of an insurrection of the Roman army has been handed down. The tale runs thus: The Roman soldiers, who at the end of the last campaign, had been left to winter in Capua, corrupted by the luxury which they there witnessed and enjoyed, formed the nefarious plan of massacring the inhabitants and seizing the town. Their projects had not ripened, when C. Marcius Rutilus, the consul for 342, came to take the command. He first, to keep them quiet, gave out that the troops were to be quartered in Capua the following winter also; then noting the ringleaders, he sent them home under various pretexts and gave furloughs to any that asked for them; his colleague, Q. Servilius Ahala, meantime taking care to detain all who came to Rome. The stratagem succeeded for some time; but at length the soldiers perceived that none of their comrades came back; and a cohort that was going home on furlough halted at Lautulæ, a narrow pass between the sea and the mountains east of Tarracina; it was there joined by all who were going home singly on leave, and the whole number soon equalled that of an army. They soon after broke up, and marching for Rome encamped under Alba Longa. Feeling their want of a leader, and learning that T. Quinctius, a distinguished patrician, who being lame of one leg from a wound had retired from the city, was living on his farm in the Tusculan district, they sent a party by night, who seized him in his bed, and gave him the option of death or becoming their commander. He therefore came to the camp, where he was saluted as general, and desired to lead them to Rome. Eight miles from the city they were met by an army led by the dictator M. Valerius Corvus. Each side shuddered at the thought of civil war, and readily agreed to a conference. The mutineers consented to entrust their cause to the dictator, whose name was a sufficient security. He rode back to the city, and at his desire the senate and curies decreed that none should be punished for, or even reproached with, their share in the mutiny, that no soldier’s name should be struck out of the roll without his own consent, that no one who had been a tribune should be made a centurion, and that the pay of the knights (as they had refused to join in the mutiny) should be reduced. And thus this formidable mutiny commenced in crime and ended in—nothing!