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Beacon Lights of History, Volume 03: Ancient Achievements
Such was the proud capital,–a city of palaces, a residence of nobles who were virtually kings, enriched with the accumulated treasures of ancient civilization. Great were the capitals of Greece and Asia, but how pre-eminent was Rome, since all were subordinate to her! How bewildering and bewitching to a traveller must have been the varied wonders of the city! Go where he would, his eye rested on something which was both a study and a marvel. Let him drive or walk about the suburbs,–there were villas, tombs, aqueducts looking like our railroads on arches, sculptured monuments, and gardens of surpassing beauty and luxury. Let him approach the walls,–they were great fortifications extending twenty-one miles in circuit, according to the measurement of Ammon as adopted by Gibbon, and forty-five miles according to other authorities. Let him enter any of the various gates that opened into the city from the roads which radiated to all parts of Italy and the world,–they were of monumental brass covered with bas-reliefs, on which the victories of generals for a thousand years were commemorated. Let him pass through any of the crowded thoroughfares,–he saw houses towering scarcely ever less than seventy feet, as tall as those of Edinburgh in its oldest sections. Most of the houses in which this vast population lived, according to Strabo, possessed pipes which gave a never-failing supply of water from the rivers that flowed into the city through the aqueducts and out again through the sewers into the Tiber. Let the traveller walk up the Via Sacra,–that short street, scarcely half a mile in length,–and he passed the Flavian Amphitheatre, the Temple of Venus and Rome, the Arch of Titus, the Temples of Peace, of Vesta, and of Castor, the Forum Romanum, the Basilica Julia, the Arch of Severus, the Temple of Saturn, and stood before the majestic ascent to the Capitoline Jupiter, with its magnificent portico and ornamented pediment, surpassing the façade of any modern church. On his left, as he emerged from beneath the sculptured Arch of Titus, was the Palatine Mount, nearly covered by the palace of the Caesars, the magnificent residences of the higher nobility, and various temples, of which that of Apollo was the most magnificent, built by Augustus, of solid white marble from Luna. Here were the palaces of Vaccus, of Flaccus, of Cicero, of Catiline, of Scaurus, of Antoninus, of Clodius, of Agrippa, and of Hortensius. Still on his left, in the valley between the Palatine and the Capitoline, though he could not see it, concealed from view by the great Temples of Vesta and of Castor, and the still greater edifice known as the Basilica Julia, was the quarter called the Velabrum, extending to the river, where the Pons Aemilius crossed it,–a low quarter of narrow streets and tall houses where the rabble lived and died. On his right, concealed from view by the Aedes Divi Julii and the Forum Romanum, was that magnificent series of edifices extending from the Temple of Peace to the Temple of Trajan, including the Basilica Pauli, the Forum Julii, the Forum Augusti, the Forum Trajani, the Basilica Ulpia,–a space more than three thousand feet in length, and six hundred in breadth, almost entirely surrounded by porticos and colonnades, and filled with statues and pictures,–displaying on the whole probably the grandest series of public buildings clustered together ever erected, especially if we include the Forum Romanum and the various temples and basilicas which connected the whole,–a forest of marble pillars and statues. Ascending the steps which led from the Temple of Concord to the Temple of Juno Moneta upon the Arx, or Tarpeian Rock, on the southwestern summit of the hill, itself one of the most beautiful temples in Rome, erected by Camillus on the spot where the house of M. Manlius Capitolinus had stood, and one came upon the Roman mint. Near this was the temple erected by Augustus to Jupiter Tonans, and that built by Domitian to Jupiter Custos. But all the sacred edifices which crowned the Capitoline were subordinate to the Templum Jovis Capitolini, standing on a platform of eight thousand square feet, and built of the richest materials. The portico which faced the Via Sacra consisted of three rows of Doric columns, the pediment profusely ornamented with the choicest sculptures, the apex of the roof surmounted by the bronze horses of Lysippus, and the roof itself covered with gilded tiles. The temple had three separate cells, though covered with one roof; in front of each stood colossal statues of the three deities to whom it was consecrated. Here were preserved what was most sacred in the eyes of Romans, and it was itself the richest of all the temples of the city.
What a beautiful panorama was presented to the view from the summit of this consecrated hill, only mounted by a steep ascent of one hundred steps! To the south was the Via Sacra extending to the Colosseum, and beyond it the Appia Via, lined with monuments as far as the eye could reach. A little beyond the fora to the east was the Carinae, a fashionable quarter of beautiful shops and houses, and still farther off were the Baths of Titus, extending from the Carinae to the Esquiline Mount. To the northeast were the Viminal and Quirinal hills, after the Palatine the most ancient part of the city, the seat of the Sabine population, abounding in fanes and temples, the most splendid of which was the Temple of Quirinus, erected originally to Romulus by Numa, but rebuilt by Augustus, with a double row of columns on each of its sides, seventy-six in number. Near by was the house of Atticus, and the gardens of Sallust in the valley between the Quirinal and Pincian, afterward the property of the Emperor. Far back on the Quirinal, near the wall of Servius, were the Baths of Diocletian, and still farther to the east the Pretorian Camp established by Tiberius, and included within the wall of Aurelian. To the northeast the eye lighted on the Pincian Hill covered with the gardens of Lucullus, to possess which Messalina caused the death of Valerius Asiaticus, into whose possession they had fallen. In the valley which lay between the fora and the Quirinal was the celebrated Subura, the quarter of shops, markets, and artificers,–a busy, noisy, vulgar section, not beautiful, but full of life and enterprise and wickedness. The eye then turned to the north, and the whole length of the Via Flamina was exposed to view, extending from the Capitoline to the Flaminian gate, perfectly straight, the finest street in Rome, and parallel to the modern Corso; it was the great highway to the north of Italy. Monuments and temples and palaces lined this celebrated street; it was spanned by the triumphal arches of Claudius and Marcus Aurelius. To the west of it was the Campus Martius, with its innumerable objects of interest,–the Baths of Agrippa, the Pantheon, the Thermae Alexandrinae, the Column of Marcus Aurelius, and the Mausoleum of Augustus. Beneath the Capitoline on the west, toward the river, was the Circus Flaminius, the Portico of Octavius, the Theatre of Balbus, and the Theatre of Pompey, where forty thousand spectators were accommodated. Stretching beyond the Thermae Alexandrinae, near the Pantheon, was the magnificent bridge which crossed the Tiber, built by Hadrian when he founded his Mausoleum, to which it led, still standing under the name of the Ponte S. Angelo. The eye took in eight or nine bridges over the Tiber, some of wood, but generally of stone, of beautiful masonry, and crowned with statues. In the valley between the Palatine and the Aventine, was the great Circus Maximus, founded by the early Tarquin; it was the largest open space, inclosed by walls and porticos, in the city; it seated three hundred and eighty-five thousand spectators. How vast a city, which could spare nearly four hundred thousand of its population to see the chariot-races! Beyond was the Aventine itself. This also was rich in legendary monuments and in the palaces of the great, though originally a plebeian quarter. Here dwelt Trajan before he was emperor, and Ennius the poet, and Paula the friend of Saint Jerome. Beneath the Aventine, and a little south of the Circus Maximus, were the great Baths of Caracalla, the ruins of which, next to those of the Colosseum, made on my mind the strongest impression of all I saw that pertains to antiquity, though these were not so large as those of Diocletian. The view south took in the Caelian Hill, the ancient residence of Tullus Hostilius. This hill was the residence of many distinguished Romans, among whose palaces was that of Claudius Centumalus, which towered ten or twelve stories into the air. But grander than any of these palaces was that of Plautius Lateranus, on whose site now stands the basilica of St. John Lateran,–the gift of Constantine to the bishop of Rome,–one of the most ancient of the Christian churches, in which, for fifteen hundred years, daily services have been performed.
Such were the objects of interest and grandeur that met the eye as it was turned toward the various quarters of the city, which contained between three and four millions of people. Lipsius estimates four millions as the population, including slaves, women, children, and strangers. Though this estimate is regarded as too large by Merivale and others, yet how enormous must have been the number of the people when there were nine thousand and twenty-five baths, and when those of Diocletian could accommodate thirty-two hundred bathers at a time! The wooden theatre of Scaurus contained eighty thousand seats; that of Marcellus twenty thousand; the Colosseum would seat eighty-seven thousand persons, and give standing space for twenty-two thousand more. The Circus Maximus would hold three hundred and eighty-five thousand spectators. If only one person out of four of the free population witnessed the games and spectacles at a time, we thus must have four millions of people altogether in the city. The Aurelian walls are now only thirteen miles in circumference, but Lipsius estimates the original circumference at forty-five miles, and Vopiscus at nearly fifty. The diameter of the city must have been eleven miles, since Strabo tells us that the actual limit of Rome was at a place between the fifth and sixth milestone from the column of Trajan in the Forum,–the central and most conspicuous object in the city except the capitol.
Modern writers, taking London and Paris for their measure of material civilization, seem unwilling to admit that Rome could have reached such a pitch of glory and wealth and power. To him who stands within the narrow limits of the Forum, as it now appears, it seems incredible that it could have been the centre of a much larger city than Europe can now boast of. Grave historians are loath to compromise their dignity and character for truth by admitting statements which seem, to men of limited views, to be fabulous, and which transcend modern experience. But we should remember that most of the monuments of ancient Rome have entirely disappeared. Nothing remains of the Palace of the Caesars, which nearly covered the Palatine Hill; little of the fora which, connected together, covered a space twice as large as that inclosed by the palaces of the Louvre and Tuileries, with all their galleries and courts; almost nothing of the glories of the Capitoline Hill; and little comparatively of those Thermae which were a mile in circuit. But what does remain attests an unparalleled grandeur,–the broken pillars of the Forum; the lofty columns of Trajan and Marcus Aurelius; the Pantheon, lifting its spacious dome two hundred feet into the air; the mere vestibule of the Baths of Agrippa; the triumphal arches of Titus and Trajan and Constantine; the bridges which span the Tiber; the aqueducts which cross the Campagna; the Cloaca Maxima, which drained the marshes and lakes of the infant city; and, above all, the Colosseum. What glory and shame are associated with that single edifice! That alone, if nothing else remained of Pagan antiquity, would indicate a grandeur and a folly such as cannot now be seen on earth. It reveals a wonderful skill in masonry and great architectural strength; it shows the wealth and resources of rulers who must have had the treasures of the world at their command; it shows the restless passions of the people for excitement, and the necessity on the part of government of yielding to this taste. What leisure and indolence marked a city which could afford to give up so much time to the demoralizing sports! What facilities for transportation were afforded, when so many wild beasts could be brought to the capitol from the central parts of Africa without calling out unusual comment! How imperious a populace that compels the government to provide such expensive pleasures! The games of Titus, on the dedication of the Colosseum, lasted one hundred days, and five thousand wild beasts were slaughtered in the arena. The number of the gladiators who fought surpasses belief. At the triumph of Trajan over the Dacians, ten thousand gladiators were exhibited, and the Emperor himself presided under a gilded canopy, surrounded by thousands of his lords. Underneath the arena, strewed with yellow sand and sawdust, was a solid pavement, so closely cemented that it could be turned into an artificial lake, on which naval battles were fought. But it was the conflict of gladiators which most deeply stimulated the passions of the people. The benches were crowded with eager spectators, and the voices of one hundred thousand were raised in triumph or rage as the miserable victims sank exhausted in the bloody sport.
Yet it was not the gladiatorial sports of the amphitheatre which most strikingly attested the greatness and splendor of the city; nor the palaces, in which as many as four hundred slaves were sometimes maintained as domestic servants for a single establishment,–twelve hundred in number according to the lowest estimate, but probably five times as numerous, since every senator, every knight, and every rich man was proud to possess a residence which would attract attention; nor the temples, which numbered four hundred and twenty-four, most of which were of marble, filled with statues, the contributions of ages, and surrounded with groves; nor the fora and basilicas, with their porticos, statues, and pictures, covering more space than any cluster of public buildings in Europe, a mile and a half in circuit; nor the baths, nearly as large, still more completely filled with works of art; nor the Circus Maximus, where more people witnessed the chariot races at a time than are nightly assembled in all the places of public amusement in Paris, London, and New York combined,–more than could be seated in all the cathedrals of England and France. It is not these which most impressively make us feel the amazing grandeur of the old capital of the world. The triumphal processions of the conquering generals were still more exciting to behold, for these appealed more directly to the imagination, and excited those passions which urged the Romans to a career of conquest from generation to generation. No military review of modern times equalled those gorgeous triumphs, even as no scenic performance compares with the gladiatorial shows; the sun has never shone upon any human assemblage so magnificent and so grand, so imposing and yet so guilty. Not only were displayed the spoils of conquered kingdoms, and the triumphal cars of generals, but the whole military strength of the capital; an army of one hundred thousand men, flushed with victory, followed the gorgeous procession of nobles and princes. The triumph of Aurelian, on his return from the East, gives us some idea of the grandeur of that ovation to conquerors. "The pomp was opened by twenty elephants, four royal tigers, and two hundred of the most curious animals from every climate, north, south, east, and west. These were followed by sixteen hundred gladiators, devoted to the cruel amusement of the amphitheatre. Then were displayed the arms and ensigns of conquered nations, the plate and wardrobe of the Syrian queen. Then ambassadors from all parts of the earth, all remarkable in their rich dresses, with their crowns and offerings. Then the captives taken in the various wars,–Goths, Vandals, Samaritans, Alemanni, Franks, Gauls, Syrians, and Egyptians, each marked by their national costume. Then the Queen of the East, the beautiful Zenobia, confined by fetters of gold, and fainting under the weight of jewels, preceding the beautiful chariot in which she had hoped to enter the gates of Rome. Then the chariot of the Persian king. Then the triumphal car of Aurelian himself, drawn by elephants. Finally the most illustrious of the Senate and the army closed the solemn procession, amid the acclamations of the people, and the sound of musical instruments. It took from dawn of day until the ninth hour for the procession to pass to the capitol; and the festival was protracted by theatrical representations, the games of the circus, the hunting of wild beasts, combats of gladiators, and naval engagements."
Such were the material wonders of the ancient civilizations, culminating in their latest and greatest representative, and displayed in its proud capital,–nearly all of which became later the spoil of barbarians, who ruthlessly marched over the classic world, having no regard for its choicest treasures. Those old glories are now indeed succeeded by a prouder civilization,–the work of nobler races after sixteen hundred years of new experiments. But why such an eclipse of the glory of man? The reason is apparent if we survey the internal state of the ancient empires, especially of society as it existed under the Roman emperors.
AUTHORITIES
Herodotus, Strabo, Pliny, Polybius, Diodorus Siculus, Titus Livius, Pausanias, on the geography and resources of the ancient nations. See an able chapter on Mediterranean prosperity in Louis Napoleon's History of Caesar. Smith's Dictionary of Ancient Geography is exhaustive. Wilkinson has revealed the civilization of ancient Egypt. Professor Becker's Handbook of Rome, as well as his Gallus and Charicles shed much light on manners and customs. Dyer's History of the City of Rome is the fullest description of its wonders that I have read. Niebuhr, Bunsen, and Platner, among the Germans, have written learnedly, but also have created much doubt about things supposed to be established. Mommsen, Curtius, and Merivale are also great authorities. Nor are the magnificent chapters of Gibbon to be disregarded by the student of Roman history, notwithstanding his elaborate and inflated style.
THE MILITARY ART
In surveying the nations of antiquity nothing impresses us more forcibly than the perpetual wars in which they were engaged, and the fact that military art and science seem to have been among the earliest things that occupied the thoughts of men. Personal strife and tribal warfare are coeval with the earliest movements of humanity.
The first recorded act in the Hebraic history of the world after the expulsion of Adam from Paradise is a murder. In patriarchal times we read of contentions between the servants of Abraham and of Lot, and between the petty kings and chieftains of the countries where they journeyed. Long before Abraham was born, violence was the greatest evil with which the world was afflicted. Before his day mighty conquerors arose and founded kingdoms. Babylon and Egypt were powerful military States in pre-historic times. Wars more or less fierce were waged before nations were civilized. The earliest known art, therefore, was the art of destruction, growing out of the wicked and brutal passions of men,–envy and hatred, ambition and revenge; in a word, selfishness. Race fought with race, kingdom with kingdom, and city with city, in the very infancy of society. In secular history the greatest names are those of conquerors and heroes in every land under the sun; and it was by conquerors that those grand monuments were erected the ruins of which astonish every traveller, especially in Egypt and Assyria.
But wars in the earliest ages were not carried on scientifically, or even as an art. There was little to mark them except brute force. Armies were scarcely more than great collections of armed men, led by kings, either to protect their States from hostile invaders, or to acquire new territory, or to exact tribute from weaker nations. We do not read of military discipline, or of skill in strategy and tactics. A battle was lost or won by individual prowess; it was generally a hand-to-hand encounter, in which the strongest and bravest gained the victory.
One of the earliest descriptions of war is to be found in the Iliad of Homer, where individual heroes fought with one another, armed with the sword, the lance, and the javelin, protected by shields, helmets, and coats of mail. They fought on foot, or from chariots, which were in use before cavalry. The war-horse was driven before he was ridden in Egypt or Palestine; but the Aryan barbarians in their invasion rode their horses, and fought on horseback, like the modern Cossacks.
Until the Greeks became familiar with war as an art, armies were usually very large, as if a great part of the population of a country followed the sovereign who commanded them. Rameses the Great, the Sesostris of the Greeks, according to Herodotus led nearly a million of men in his expeditions. He was the most noted of ancient warriors until Cyrus the Persian arose, and was nearly contemporaneous with Moses. The Trojan war is supposed to have taken place during the period when the Israelites were subject to the Ammonites; and about the time that the Philistines were defeated by David, the Greeks were forced by war to found colonies in Asia Minor.
After authentic history begins, war is the main subject with which it has to deal; and for three thousand years history is simply the record of the feats of warriors and generals, of their conquests and defeats, of the rise and fall of kingdoms and cities, of the growth or decline of military virtues. No arts of civilization have preserved nations from the sword of the conqueror, and war has been both the amusement and the business of kings. From the earliest ages, the most valued laurels have been bestowed for success in war, and military fame has eclipsed all other glories. The cry of the mourner has been unheeded in the blaze of conquest; even the aspirations of the poet and the labors of the artist have been as nought, except to celebrate the achievements of heroes.
It is interesting then to inquire how far the ancients advanced in the arts of war, which include military weapons, movements, the structure of camps, the discipline of armies, the construction of ships and of military engines, and the concentration and management of forces under a single man. What was that mighty machinery by which nations were subdued, or rose to greatness on the ruin of States and Empires? The conquests of Rameses, of David, of Nebuchadnezzar, of Cyrus, of Alexander, of Hannibal, of Caesar, and other heroes are still the subjects of contemplation among statesmen and schoolboys. The exploits of heroes are the pith of history.
The art of war must have made great progress in the infancy of civilization, when bodily energies were most highly valued, when men were fierce, hardy, strong, and uncorrupted by luxury; when mere physical forces gave law alike to the rich and the poor, to the learned and the ignorant; and when the avenue to power led across the field of battle.
We must go to Egypt for the earliest development of art and science in all departments; and so far as the art of war consists in the organization of physical forces for conquest or defence, under the direction of a single man, it was in Egypt that this was first accomplished, about seventeen hundred years before Christ, as chronologists think, by Rameses the Great.
This monarch, according to Wilkinson, the greatest and most ambitious of the Egyptian kings, to whom the Greeks gave the name of Sesostris, showed great ability in collecting together large bodies of his subjects, and controlling them by a rigid military discipline. He accustomed them to heat and cold, hunger and thirst, fatigue, and exposure to danger. With bodies thus rendered vigorous by labor and discipline, they were fitted for distant expeditions. Rameses first subdued the Arabians and Libyans, and annexed them to the Egyptian monarchy. While he inured his subjects to fatigue and danger, he was careful to win their affections by acts of munificence and clemency. He then made his preparations for the conquest of the known world, and collected an army, according to Diodorus Siculus, of six hundred thousand infantry, twenty-four thousand cavalry, and twenty-seven thousand war-chariots. It is difficult to understand how a small country like Egypt could furnish such an immense force. If the account of the historian be not exaggerated, Rameses must have enrolled the conquered Libyans and Arabians and other nations among his soldiers. He subjected his army to a stern discipline and an uncomplaining obedience to orders,–the first principle in the science of war, which no successful general in the world's history has ever disregarded, from Alexander to Napoleon. With this powerful army his march was irresistible. Ethiopia was first subdued, and an exaction made from the conquered of a tribute of gold, ivory, and ebony. In those ancient times a conquering army did not resettle or colonize the territories it had subdued, but was contented with overrunning the country and exacting tribute from the people. Such was the nature of the Babylonian and Persian conquests. After overrunning Ethiopia and some other countries near the Straits of Babelmandeb, the conqueror proceeded to India, which he overran beyond the Ganges, and ascended the high table-land of Central Asia; then proceeding westward, he entered Europe, nor halted in his devastating career until he reached Thrace. From thence he marched to Asia Minor, conquering as he went, and invaded Assyria, seating himself on the throne of Ninus and Semiramis. Then, laden with booty from the Eastern world, he returned to Egypt after an absence of thirty years and consolidated his empire, building those vast structures at Thebes, which for magnitude have never been surpassed. Thus was Egypt enriched with the spoil of nations, and made formidable for a thousand years. Rameses was the last of the Pharaohs who pursued the phantom of military renown, or sought glory in distant expeditions.