Camillus

The augural staff is curved at one end, and is called lituus. It is used to mark off the different quarters of the heavens, in the ceremonies of divination by the flight of birds, and so Romulus had used this one, for he was a great diviner. But when he vanished from among men, the priests took this staff and kept it inviolate, like any other sacred object. Their finding this at that time unscathed, when all the rest had perished, gave them more pleasing hopes for Rome. They thought it a token that assured her of everlasting safety.

They were not yet done with these pressing tasks when a fresh war broke upon them. The Aequians, Volscians, and Latins burst into their territory all at once, and the Tuscans laid siege to Sutrium, a city allied with Rome. The military tribunes in command of the army, having encamped near Mount Marcius, were besieged by the Latins, and were in danger of losing their camp. Wherefore they sent to Rome for aid, and Camillus was appointed dictator for the third time.

Two stories are told about this war, and I will give the fabulous one first. They say that the Latins, either as a pretext for war, or because they really wished to revive the ancient affinity between the two peoples, sent and demanded from the Romans freeborn virgins in marriage. The Romans were in doubt what to do, for they dreaded war in their unsettled and unrestored condition, and yet they suspected that this demand for wives was really a call for hostages disguised under the specious name of intermarriage.

In their perplexity, a serving-maid named Tutula, or, as some call her, Philotis, advised the magistrates to send her to the enemy with some maidservants of the comeliest sort and most genteel appearance, all arrayed like freeborn brides; she would attend to the rest. The magistrates yielded to her persuasions, chose out as many maid-servants as she thought meet for her purpose, arrayed them in fine raiment and gold, and handed them over to the Latins, who were encamped near the city.

In the night, the rest of the maidens stole away the enemy’s swords, while Tutula, or Philotis, climbed a wild fig-tree of great height, and after spreading out her cloak behind her, held out a lighted torch towards Rome, this being the signal agreed upon between her and the magistrates, though no other citizen knew of it. Hence it was that the soldiers sallied out of the city tumultuously, as the magistrates urged them on, calling out one another’s names, and with much ado getting into rank and file. They stormed the entrenchments of the enemy, who were fast asleep and expecting nothing of the sort, captured their camp, and slew most of them.

This happened on the Nones of what was then called Quintilis, now July, and the festival since held on that day is in remembrance of the exploit. For, to begin with, they run out of the city gate in throngs, calling out loudly many local and common names, such as Gaius, Marcus, Lucius, and the like, in imitation of the way the soldiers once called aloud upon each other in their haste.