Ab urbe condita

The battle-line was formed; neither the Veientines nor the legions of Etruria declined the contest. They were almost certain that the Romans would no more fight with them than they fought with the Aequi, and they did not despair of something still more serious happening, considering the state of irritation they were in and the double opportunity which now presented itself.[*](double opportunity —First murdering the consul and then going over to the enemy.)

Things took a very different course, for in no previous war had the Romans gone into action with more grim determination, so exasperated were they by the insults of the enemy and the procrastination of the

consuls. The Etruscans had scarcely time to form their ranks when, after the javelins had in the first confusion been flung at random rather than thrown regularly, the combatants came to a hand-to-hand encounter with swords, the most desperate kind of

fighting. Amongst the foremost were the Fabii, who set a splendid example for their countrymen to behold. Quintus Fabius —the one who had been consul two years previously — charged, regardless of danger, the massed Veientines, and whilst he was engaged with vast numbers of the enemy, a Tuscan of vast strength and splendidly armed plunged his sword into his breast, and as he drew it out Fabius fell forward on the

wound. Both armies felt the fall of this one man, and the Romans were beginning to give ground, when M. Fabius, the consul, sprang over the body as it lay, and holding up his buckler, shouted, “Is this what you swore, soldiers, that you would go back to camp as

fugitives? Are you more afraid of this cowardly foe than of Jupiter and Mars, by whom you swore? I, who did not swear, will either go back victorious, or will fall fighting by you, Quintus Fabius.” Then Caeso Fabius, the consul of the previous year, said to the consul, “Is it by words like these, my brother, that you think you will make them

fight? The gods, by whom they swore, will-do that; our duty as chiefs, if we are to be worthy of the Fabian name, is to kindle our soldiers' courage by fighting rather than haranguing.” So the two Fabii dashed forward with levelled spears, and carried the whole line with them.

Whilst the battle was restored in one direction, the consul Cn. Manlius was showing no less energy on the other wing, where the fortunes of the day took a similar turn.

For, like Q. Fabius on the other wing, the consul Manlius was here driving the enemy before him and his soldiers were following up with great vigour, when he was seriously wounded and retired from the front.

Thinking that he was killed, they fell back, and would have abandoned their ground had not the other consul ridden up at full gallop with some troops of cavalry, and, crying out that his colleague was alive and that he had himself routed the other wing of the enemy, succeeded in checking the retreat. Manlius also showed himself amongst them, to rally his men. The well-known voices of the two consuls gave the soldiers fresh courage.

At the same time the enemies' line was now weakened, for, trusting to their superiority in numbers, they had detached their reserves and sent them to storm the camp.

These met with but slight resistance, and whilst they were wasting time by thinking more about plundering than about fighting, the Roman triarii,[*](triarii —The third line, generally acting as reserves. They were veteran troops, and thier steadiness often restored a battle when the first and second lines had given way. Here they were guarding the camp.) who had been unable to withstand the first assault, despatched messengers to the consul to tell him the position of affairs, and then, retiring in close order to the head-quarters tent, renewed the fighting without waiting for orders. The consul Manlius had ridden back to the camp and posted troops at all the gates to block the enemies'

escape. The desperate situation roused the Tuscans to madness rather than courage; they rushed in every direction where there seemed any hope of escape, and for some time their efforts were fruitless. At last a compact body of young soldiers made an attack on the consul himself, conspicuous from his arms. The first weapons were intercepted by those who stood round him, but the violence of the onset could not long be withstood. The consul fell mortally wounded and all around him were

scattered. The Tuscans were encouraged, the Romans fled in panic through the length of the camp, and matters would have come to extremities had not the members of the consul's staff hurriedly taken up his body and opened a way for the enemy through one

gate. They burst through it, and in a confused mass fell in with the other consul who had won the battle; here they were again cut to pieces and scattered in all

directions. A glorious victory was won, though saddened by the death of two illustrious men. The senate decreed a triumph, but the consul replied that if the army could celebrate a triumph without its commander, he would gladly allow them to do so in return for their splendid service in the