Ab urbe condita

For these reasons the Dictator prolonged the war and announced that he would inflict severe punishment on any one who fought against orders. The soldiers grew impatient at this state of things. When on picket or outpost duty at night, they talked in very disparaging terms about the Dictator, sometimes they abused the senators generally for not having given orders that the war should be conducted by consuls.

“An extraordinary commander,” they said, “had been selected, one man out of a thousand, who thought that if he sat still and did nothing himself, victory would fly down from heaven into his lap.” Then they uttered these sentiments and still more angry ones openly in the daytime; they declared that they would either fight without waiting for orders or they would march back in a body to Rome.

The centurions made common cause with the soldiers; the murmurs were not confined to scattered groups, a general discussion went on in the main thoroughfares of the camp and in the open space before the headquarters' tent. The crowd grew to the dimensions of an Assembly, and shouts were raised from all sides to go at once to the Dictator. Sextius Tullius was to be spokesman for the army, a position he was well worthy to fill.

Tullius was now first centurion for the seventh time, and there was not in the whole army amongst the infantry officers a more distinguished soldier.

He led the procession to the tribunal, and Sulpicius was not more surprised at seeing the gathering than at seeing Tullius at the head of it. He began: “Do not be surprised, Dictator, at my being here.

The whole army is under the impression that it has been condemned by you for cowardice and to mark its disgrace has been deprived of its arms. It has asked me to plead its cause before you.

Even if we could be charged with deserting our ranks and turning our backs to the enemy, or with the disgraceful loss of our standards, even then I should think it only fair for you to allow us to amend our fault by courage and to wipe out the memory of our disgraceful conduct by winning fresh glory.

Even the legions which were routed at the Alia marched out afterwards from Veii and recovered the City which they had lost through panic. For us, thanks to the goodness of the gods and the happy fortune which attends on you and on Rome, our fortunes and our honour remain unimpaired.

And yet I hardly dare mention the word “honour” whilst the enemy ventures to mock us with every kind of insult, as if we were hiding ourselves like women behind our rampart, and —what grieves us much more —even you our commander have made up your mind that your army is without courage, without weapons, without hands to use them, and before you have put us to the proof have so despaired of us that you look upon yourself as the commander of cripples and weaklings.

What other reason can we believe there to be, why you, a veteran commander, a most gallant soldier, should be as they say sitting with your arms folded? However the case may be, it is more true to say that you appear to doubt our courage than that we doubt yours.”

“But if this is not your doing, but a piece of State policy, if it is some concerted scheme of the patricians and not war with the Gauls that is keeping us in banishment from the City and from our household gods, then I ask you to regard what I am now going to say as addressed not by soldiers to their commander but to the patricians by the plebs, who say that as you have your projects so they will have theirs.