Ab urbe condita

He spoke at some length upon the general character of the war they were engaged in, and especially upon the style of equipment which the enemy had adopted, which he said served for idle pageantry rather than for practical use.

Plumes did not inflict wounds, their painted and gilded shields would be penetrated by the Roman javelin, and an army resplendent in dazzling white would be stained with gore when the sword came into play.

A Samnite army all in gold and silver had once been annihilated by his father, and those trappings had brought more glory as spoils to the victors than they had brought as armour to the wearers.

It might, perhaps, be a special privilege granted to his name and family that the greatest efforts which the Samnites had ever made should be frustrated and defeated under their generalship and that the spoils which they brought back should be sufficiently splendid to serve as decorations for the public places in the City.

Treaties so often asked for, so often broken, brought about the intervention of the immortal gods, and if it were permitted to make to form any conjecture as to the feelings of the gods, he believed that they had never

been more incensed against any army than against this one of the Samnites It had taken part in infamous rites and been stained with the mingled blood of men and beasts;

it was under the two-fold curse of heaven, filled with dread at the thought of the gods who witnessed the treaties made with Rome and horror-struck at the imprecations which were uttered when all

oath was taken to break those treaties, an oath which the soldiers took under compulsion and which they recall with loathing. They dread alike the gods, their fellow-countrymen, and. the enemy.

These details the consul had gathered from information supplied by deserters, and his mention of them increased the exasperation of the troops. Assured of the favour of heaven and satisfied that humanly speaking they were more than a match for their foes, they clamoured with one voice to be led to battle, and were intensely disgusted at finding that it was put off till the morrow; they chafed angrily at the delay of a whole day and night.

After receiving the reply from his colleague, Papirius rose quietly in the third watch of the night and sent a pullarius to observe the omens.

There was not a man, whatever his rank or condition, in the camp who was not seized by the passion for battle, the highest and lowest alike were eagerly looking forward to it;

the general was watching the excited looks of the men, the men were looking at their general, the universal excitement extended even to those who were engaged in observing the sacred birds. The chickens refused to eat, but the pullarius ventured to misrepresent matters, and reported to the consul that they had eaten so greedily that the corn dropped from their mouths on to the ground.[*](The auspices were taken from the observation of birds, either from their flight, as in the case of the vultures seen by Romulus and Remus, or from their cries or notes, as in the case of the eagle mentioned as portending the royalty of the Tarquins, or thirdly from the way they took their food. These latter were sacred chickens kept in cages, which always accompanied the Imperator on his campaigns. The pullarii were the augurs in charge of the chickens whose business it was to take the auspices from them. If the birds refused their corn it was naturally regarded as a bad omen, but if, going to the other extreme, they picked it up so greedily that some fell from their bills, the omen was in the highest degree favourable. There was a special term applied to the way the corn thus dropped on to the ground, which was ultimately used a general description of the method of augury.)

The consul, delighted at the news, gave out that the omens could not have been more favourable; they were going to engage the enemy under the guidance and blessing of heaven.

He then gave the signal for battle. Just as they were taking up their position, a deserter brought word that 20 cohorts of the Samnites, comprising about 400 men each, had gone to Cominium.

He instantly despatched a message to his colleague in case he should not be aware of this movement, and ordered the standards to be advanced more rapidly. He had already posted the reserves in their respective positions and told off an officer to take command of each detach- ment.

The right wing of the main army he entrusted to L. Volumnius, the left to L. Scipio, and two other members of his staff, C. Caedicius and T. Trebonius, were placed in command of the cavalry. He gave orders for Spurius Nautius to remove the pack-saddles from the mules and to take them together with three of the auxiliary cohorts by a circuitous route to some rising ground visible from the battlefield, where during

the pro- gress of the fight he was to attract attention by raising as great a cloud of dust as possible. While the consul was busy with these arrangements an alterca- tion began between the pullarii about the omens which had been observed in the morning. Some of the Roman Cavalry overheard it and thought it of sufficient importance to justify them in reporting to Spurius Papirius, the consul's nephew, that the omens were being called in question.

This young man, born in an age when men were not yet taught to despise the gods, inquired into the matter in order to make quite sure that what he was reporting was true and then laid it before the consul.

He thanked him for the trouble be had taken and bade him have no fears. “But,” he continued, “if the man who is watching the omens makes a false report, he brings down the divine wrath on his own head.