HORATIUS. THERE can be little doubt that among those parts of early Roman history which had a poetical origin was the legend of Horatius Cocles. We have several versions of the story, and these versions differ from each other in points of no small importance. Polybius, there is reason to believe, heard the tale recited over the remains of some Consul or Prætor descended from the old Horatian patricians; for he evidently introduces it as a specimen of the narratives with which the Romans were in the habit of embellishing their funeral oratory. It is remarkable that, according to his description, Horatius defended the bridge alone, and perished in the waters. According to the chronicles which Livy and Dionysius followed, Horatius had two companions, swam safe to shore, and was loaded with honours and rewards. two old Roman lays about the defence of the bridge; and that, while the story which Livy has transmitted to us was preferred by the multitude, the other, which ascribed the whole glory to Horatius alone, may have been the favourite with the Horatian house. The following ballad is supposed to have been made about a hundred and twenty years after the war which it celebrates, and just be fore the taking of Rome by the Gauls. The author seems to have been an honest citizen, proud of the military glory of his country, sick of the disputes of factions, and much given to pining after good old times which had never really existed. The allusion, however, to the partial manner in which the public lands were allotted could proceed only from a plebeian; and the allusion to the fraudulent sale of spoils marks the date of the poem, and shows that the poet shared in the general discontent with which the proceedings of Camillus, after the taking of Veii, were regarded. These discrepancies are easily explained. Our own literature, indeed, will furnish an exact parallel to what may have taken place at Rome. It is highly probable that the me- The penultimate syllable of the name Porsemory of the war of Porsena was preserved by na has been shortened in spite of the authority compositions much resembling the two ballads of Niebuhr, who pronounces, without assign which stand first in the Reliques of Ancient Eng-ing any ground for his opinion, that Martial lish Poetry. In both those ballads the English, was guilty of a decided blunder in the line, commanded by the Percy fight with the Scots, "Hanc spectare manum Porsena non potuit." commanded by the Douglas. In one of the ballads, the Douglas is killed by a nameless It is not easy to understand how any modern English archer, and the Percy by a Scottish scholar, whatever his attainments may be,spearman in the other, the Percy slays the and those of Niebuhr were undoubtedly imDouglas in single combat, and is himself made mense,-can venture to pronounce that Marprisoner. In the former, Sir Hugh Montgomery tial did not know the quantity of a word which is shot through the heart by a Northumbrian he must have uttered and heard uttered a bowman: in the latter, he is taken, and ex-hundred times before he left school. Niebuhr changed for the Percy. Yet both the ballads seems also to have forgotten that Martial has relate to the same event, and that an event fellow culprits to keep him in countenance. which probably took place within the memory of persons who were alive when both the balder; for he gives us, as a pure iambic line, lads were made. One of the minstrels says: Horace has committed the same decided blun "Minacis aut Etrusca Porsenæ manus.” same way, as when he says, "Cernitur effugiens ardentem Porsena dextram;" and again, "Clusinum vulgus, cum, Porsena magne, jubebas." The other poet sums up the event in the fol- A modern writer may be content to err in such owing lines: company. Niebuhr's supposition that each of the three defenders of the bridge was the representative of one of the three patrician tribes is both ingenious and probable, and has been adopted It is by no means unlikely ha. there were in the following poem. A fearful sight it was to see 14. For aged folk on crutches, And women great with child, And mothers sobbing over babes That clung to them and smiled, And sick men borne in litters High on the necks of slaves, And troops of sun-burned husbandmen With reaping-hooks and staves, 15. And droves of mules and asses Laden with skins of wine, And endless flocks of goats and sheep, That creaked beneath their weight Of corn-sacks and of household goods, Choked every roaring gate. 16. Now, from the rock Tarpeian, The line of blazing villages They sat all night and day, For every hour some horseman came With tidings of dismay. 17. To eastward and to westward Have spread the Tuscan bands; Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote, In Crustumerium stands. Verbenna down to Ostia Hath wasted all the plain; Astur hath stormed Janiculum, And the stout guards are slain. 18. I wis, in all the Senate, There was no heart so bold, In haste they girded up their gowns, 19. They held a council standing Short time was there, ye well may guess, Out spoke the Consul roundly: "The bridge must straight go down; For, since Janiculum is lost, Naught else can gave the town." 20. Just then a scout came flying, All wild with haste and fear: "To arms! to arms! Sir Consul; Lars Porsena is here." On the low hills to westward The Consul fixed his eye, And saw the swarthy storm of dust Bise fast along the sky. 21. And nearer fast and nearer Doth the red whirlwind come; And louder still and still more loud, From underneath that rolling cloud, Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud, The trampling and the hum. And plainly and more plainly Now through the gloom appears, Far to left and far to right, In broken gleams of dark-blue light, The long array of helmets bright, The long array of spears. 22. And plainly and more plainly, Of twelve fair cities shine; 23. And plainly and more plainly Now might the burghers know, There Cilnius of Arretium On his fleet roan was seen; And Astur of the fourfold shield, Girt with the brand none else may wiel Tolumnius with the belt of gold, And dark Verbenna from the hold By reedy Thrasymene. 24. Fast by the royal standard, And by the left false Sextus, That wrought the deed of shame. 25. But when the face of Sextus On the house-tops was no woman 26. But the Consul's brow was sad, Before the bridge goes down; 27. Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the gate: "To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his Gods, 28. "And for the tender mother Who feed the eternal flame, 29. "Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may; I, with two more to help me, Will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Now, who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?" 30. Then out spake Spurius Lartius, A Ramnian proud was he: "Lo, I will stand on thy right hand, And keep the bridge with thee." And out spake strong Herminius, Of Titian blood was he: "I will abide on thy left side, And keep the bridge with thee." 31. "Horatius," quoth the Consul, "As thou sayest, so let it be." And straight against that great array Forth went the dauntless Three. For Romans in Rome's quarrel Spared neither land nor gold, Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, In the brave days of old. 32. Then none was for a party; Then all were for the state; Then the great man helped the poor, And the poor man loved the great: Then lands were fairly portioned; Then spoils were fairly sold: The Romans were like brothers In the brave days of old. 33. Now Roman is to Roman More hateful than a foe, And the Tribunes beard the high, And the Fathers grind the low. As we wax hot in faction, In battle we wax cold; Wherefore men fight not as they fought In the brave days of old. 34. Now, while the Three were tightening From Ostia's walls the crowd shail mark 41. But now no sound of laughter From all the vanguard rose. And for a space no man came forth To win the narrow pass. 42. But hark! the cry is Astur: And the great Lord of Luna Comes with his stately stride. Upon his ample shoulders Clangs loud the fourfold shield, And in his hand he shakes the brand Which none but he can wield. 43. He smiled on those bold Romans If Astur clears the way?" Then, whirling up his broadsword And smote with all his might. Right deftly turned the blow. The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh; It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh: The Tuscans raised a joyful cry To see the red blood flow. And thrice and four times tugged amalt, Ere he wrenched out the steel. "And see," he cried "the welcome, Fair guests, that waits you here! What noble Lucumo comes next To taste our Roman cheer?" 48. But at his haughty challenge Mingled of wrath, and shame, and dread, There lacked not men of prowess, For all Etruria's noblest 49. But all Etruria's noblest Felt their hearts sink to see Where those bold Romans stood, 50. Was none who would be foremost Wavers the deep array; 51. Yet one man for one moment Strode out before the crowd; Well known was he to all the Three, And they gave him greeting loud. "Now welcome, welcome, Sextus! Now welcome to thy home! Why dost thou stay, and turn away! Here lies the road to Rome." 52. Thrice looked he on the city; And thrice came on in fury, And thrice turned back in dread; And, white with fear and hatred, Scowled at the narrow way Where, wallowing in a pool of blood The bravest Tuscans lay. 53. Bat meanwhile axe and lever "Come back, come back, Horatius !" |