Treachery of Tarpeia (Sixth Year of Rome)
(See p. 65)
It was to supply the deficiency thus noted, Dionysius alleged, that he undertook his work, being determined, he says, “not to pass over that beautiful part of the Roman history, which the ancient authors had disregarded.” But “lest some one should entertain the opinion that in introducing matter not found in the authors already mentioned, he resorted to invention,” Dionysius thinks it well to explain how he came by the materials for his history. He says:
“I came into Italy immediately after Augustus Cæsar had put an end to the civil war, in the middle of the hundred and eighty-seventh Olympiad; and having from that time to this present, that is, twenty-two years, lived at Rome, learned the Roman language and acquainted myself with their writings, I employed all that interval in preparing materials for this work; and some things I received from men of the greatest consideration among them for learning, whose conversation I used; and others I gathered from histories, written by the most approved Roman authors; such as Porcius Cato, Fabius Maximus, Valerius Antias, Licinius Macer, the Ælii, Gellii, and Calpurnii, and several others of good note. Supported, therefore, by the authority of these histories, which are like the Greek annals, I undertook this work.”
Livy, our other great source for the early traditional history of Rome, unlike Dionysius, does not specifically enlighten us as to the sources of his information; but doubtless they were much the same as those employed by his great contemporary.
There was indeed a large company of early annalists and chroniclers, as the note of Dionysius indicates. Among others these names have come down to us: Q. Fabius Pictor and L. Cincius Alimentus, who lived in the time of the Second Punic War and wrote in Greek; the poet Ennius, who wrote annals from the earliest time to his own day; and A. Postumius Albinus and C. Acilius who wrote annals in Greek at about the same period. The original works of all of these, like those of many later historians, have been lost.
It appears that the Roman historians were accustomed to call their writings annals if they referred to ancient times, and histories if they described contemporary events. It will be recalled that Tacitus wrote both annals and histories. Necessarily, the works dealing with the early history of Rome were annals. Dionysius, however, termed his work Archæologia instead of annals. Dionysius lived in the latter half of the first century B.C., but he did not attempt to bring his historical records further down than the year 264 B.C.; his intention being to bridge the gap in Roman history preceding the time at which the work of Polybius begins. Livy’s scope was far more comprehensive, as his work covered the period to his own time. In other words it was, using the Roman terminology, annals and history combined. It is curious to note his own estimate of the relative values of these two portions of his work. He says:
“Whether in tracing the series of the Roman history, from the foundation of the city, I shall employ my time to good purpose, is a question which I cannot positively determine; nor, were it possible, would I venture to pronounce such determination; for I am aware that the matter is of high antiquity, and has been already treated by many others; the latest writers always supposing themselves capable, either of throwing some new light on the subject, or, by the superiority of their talents for composition, of excelling the more inelegant writers who preceded them. However that may be, I shall, at all events, derive no small satisfaction from the reflection that my best endeavours have been exerted in transmitting to posterity the achievements of the greatest people in the world; and if, amidst such a multitude of writers, my name should not emerge from obscurity, I shall console myself by attributing it to the eminent merit of those who stand in my way in the pursuit of fame. It may be further observed, that such a subject must require a work of immense extent, as our researches must be carried back through a space of more than seven hundred years; that the state has, from very small beginnings, gradually increased to such a magnitude, that it is now distressed by its own bulk; and that there is every reason to apprehend that the generality of readers will receive but little pleasure from the accounts of its first origin, or of the times immediately succeeding, but will be impatient to arrive at that period, in which the powers of this overgrown state have been long employed in working their own destruction.”
Obviously then, Livy regarded the portion of his history which dealt with remote antiquity as relatively unimportant. But posterity did not give suffrage to this view; for successive generations of copyists preserved the early portion of the work entire, while allowing the latter part to be lost, except for occasional fragments.
Horatius Condemned
(See p. 79)
Livy’s preface continues: “On the other hand, this much will be derived from my labour, that, so long at least as I shall have my thoughts totally occupied in investigating the transactions of such distant ages, without being embarrassed by any of these unpleasing considerations, in respect of later days, which, though they might not have power to warp a writer’s mind from the truth, would yet be sufficient to create uneasiness, I shall withdraw myself from the sight of the many evils to which our eyes have been so long accustomed.
“As to the relations which have been handed down of events prior to the founding of the city, or to the circumstances that gave occasion to its being founded, and which bear the semblance rather of poetic fictions than of authentic records of history—these, I have no intention either to maintain or refute. Antiquity is always indulged with the privilege of rendering the origin of cities more venerable, by intermixing divine with human agency; and if any nation may claim the privilege of being allowed to consider its original as sacred, and to attribute it to the operations of the gods, surely the Roman people, who rank so high in military fame, may well expect, that, while they choose to represent Mars as their own parent, and that of their founder, the other nations of the world may acquiesce in this, with the same deference with which they acknowledge their sovereignty. But what degree of attention or credit may be given to these and such like matters I shall not consider as very material.”
Particular attention should be called to the remarks of Livy, just quoted; which seem clearly enough to show that he was by no means so credulous regarding the traditions of early Rome as his manner of relating these traditions might lead one to suppose. It is probable that the judgment of later generations usually goes astray when attempting to estimate the exact level of credulity of any anterior generation. Doubtless the Romans as a class gave far more credence to the hero tales than we are disposed to give them now. We shall have abundant evidence that even in the golden period of the empire superstitions as to miracles and the like were not altogether repudiated, even by such writers as Tacitus; but, on the other hand, we may well believe that writers of such capacity as Livy allowed a desire for artistic presentation of a theme to conceal a scepticism which he would not otherwise have hesitated to avow. Be that as it may, posterity has all along clung to the myths of early Rome, and we of to-day cannot ignore them, whatever estimate we put upon their authenticity. It is through the pages of Dionysius and Livy, chiefly, that these fascinating tales have been preserved to us.
Coming down the centuries we find no great name until we reach the period when Rome, having firmly established her power in Italy, began to look out beyond the bounds of the peninsula and dream of foreign conquests. This great culminating epoch of Roman history found a great transcriber in Polybius. His work was avowedly written to describe and explain the events by which Rome “in the short period of fifty-three years,” conquered the world. Polybius was himself a Greek, born in Megalopolis. He was a practical statesman, and the personal friend of Aratus, the leader of the Achæan League. We have noted in a previous volume that Polybius was one of the thousand Greeks sent as hostages to Rome. He spent the greater part of the remainder of his life in Italy; became the personal friend of Scipio the Younger, and was present with that leader when Carthage was finally destroyed. Belonging thus to the later epoch of Grecian history, when the spirit of the age was philosophical rather than artistic, Polybius wrote such a work as might be expected of a man of genius of his time. His point of view is utterly different from that of his great predecessor Herodotus, though not altogether dissimilar to that of Thucydides. He himself tells us over and over—in fact he never tires of repeating—that his intention is to instruct rather than to entertain; to teach the causes of Rome’s success; to point the moral of her victories. Being a man of affairs, he not unnaturally holds that only men of affairs are competent to become reliable historians. He points out that there are two ways of gaining knowledge: “one derived from reading books, and the other from interrogating men;” he inveighs with some asperity against those historians, taking Timæus as a type, who confine themselves to the former method.