The Sabine Virgins
A tract of ground surrounded by walls does not make a city. Men are
wanted, and of these the new city of Rome had but few. The band of
shepherds who were sufficient to build a wall, or perhaps only a wooden
palisade, were not enough to inhabit a city and defend it from its foes.
The neighboring people had cities of their own, except bandits and
fugitives, men who had shed blood, exiles driven from their homes by
their
nemies, or slaves who had fled from their lords and masters.
These were the only people to be had, and Romulus invited them in by
proclaiming that his city should be an asylum for all who were
oppressed, a place of refuge to which any man might flee and be safe
from his pursuers. He erected a temple to a god named Asylaeus,--from
whom comes the word asylum,--and in this he "received and protected all,
delivering none back, neither the servant to his master, the debtor to
his creditor, nor the murderer into the hands of the magistrate, saying
that it was a privileged place, and they could so maintain it by an
order of the holy oracle, insomuch that the city grew presently very
populous."
It was a quick and easy way of peopling a city. Doubtless the country
held many such fugitives,--men lurking in woods or caves, hiding in
mountain clefts, abiding wherever a place of safety offered,--hundreds
of whom, no doubt, were glad to find a shelter among men and behind
walls of defence. But it was probably a sorry population, made up of the
waifs of mankind, many of whom had been slaves or murderers. There were
certainly no women among this desperate horde, and Romulus appealed in
vain to the neighboring cities to let his people obtain wives from among
their maidens. It was not safe for the citizens of Rome to go abroad to
seek wives for themselves; the surrounding peoples rejected the appeal
of Romulus with scorn and disdain; unless something was done Rome bade
fair to remain a city of bachelors.
In this dilemma Romulus conceived a plan to win wives for his people. He
sent word abroad that he had discovered the altar of the god Consus, who
presided over secret counsels, and he invited the citizens of the
neighboring towns to come to Rome and take part in a feast with which he
proposed to celebrate the festal day of the deity. This was the 21st of
August, just four months after the founding of the city,--that is, if it
was the same year.
There were to be sacrifices to Consus, where libations would be poured
into the flames that consumed the victims. These would be followed by
horse-and chariot-races, banquets, and other festivities. The promise of
merry-making brought numerous spectators from the nearer cities, some
doubtless drawn by curiosity to see what sort of a commonwealth this
was that had grown up so suddenly on the sheep pastures of the Palatine
Hill; and they found their wives and daughters as curious and eager for
enjoyment as themselves, and brought them along, ignoring the scorn with
which they had lately rejected the Roman proposals for wives. It was a
religious festival, and therefore safe; so visitors came from the cities
of Coenina, Crustumerium, and Antemna, and a multitude from the
neighboring country of the Sabines.
The sacrifices over, the games began. The visitors, excited by the
races, became scattered about among the Romans. But as the chariots,
drawn by flying horses, sped swiftly over the ground, and the eyes of
the visitors followed them in their flight, Romulus gave a preconcerted
signal, and immediately each Roman seized a maiden whom he had managed
to get near and carried her struggling and screaming from the ground. As
they did so, each called out "Talasia," a word which means spinning, and
which afterwards became the refrain of a Roman marriage song.
The games at once broke up in rage and confusion. But the visitors were
unarmed and helpless. Their anger could be displayed only in words, and
Romulus told them boldly that they owed their misfortune to their pride.
But all would go well with their daughters, he said, since their new
husbands would take the place with them of home and family.
This reasoning failed to satisfy the fathers who had been robbed so
violently of their daughters, and they had no sooner reached home than
many of them seized their arms and marched against their faithless
hosts. First came the people of Coenina; but the Romans defeated them,
and Romulus killed their king. Then came the people of Crustumerium and
Antemna, but they too were defeated. The prisoners were taken into Rome
and made citizens of the new commonwealth.
But it was the Sabines who had most to deplore, for they had come in
much the greatest number, and it was principally the Sabine virgins whom
the Romans had borne off from the games. Titus Tatius, the king of the
Sabines, therefore resolved upon a signal revenge, and took time to
gather a large army, with which he marched against Rome.
The war that followed was marked by two romantic incidents. Near the
Tiber is a hill,--afterwards known as the Capitoline Hill,--which was
divided from the Palatine Hill by a low and swampy valley. On this hill
Romulus had built a fortress, as a sort of outwork of his new city. It
happened that Tarpeius, the chief who held this fortress, had a daughter
named Tarpeia, who was deeply affected by that love of finery which has
caused abundant mischief since her day. When she saw the golden collars
and bracelets which many of the Sabines wore, her soul was filled with
longing, and she managed to let them know that she would betray the
fortress into their hands if they would give her the bright things which
they wore upon their arms.
They consented, and she secretly opened to them a gate of the fortress.
But as they marched through the gate, and the traitress waited to
receive her reward, the Sabine soldiers threw on her the bright shields
which they wore on their arms, and she was crushed to death beneath
their weight. The steep rock of the Capitoline Hill from which traitors
were afterwards thrown was called, after her, the Tarpeian Rock.
The fortress thus captured, the valley between the hill and the city
became the scene of battle. Here the Sabines repulsed the Romans,
driving them back to one of their gates, through which the fugitives
rushed in confusion, shutting it hastily behind them. But--if we may
trust the legend--the gate refused to stay shut. It opened again of its
own accord. They closed it twice more, and twice more it swung open. The
victorious Sabines, who had now reached it, began to rush in; but just
then, from the Temple of Janus, near by, there burst forth a mighty
stream of water, which swept the Sabines away and saved Rome from
capture. Therefore, in after-days, the gates of the Temple of Janus
stood always wide open in time of war, that the god might go out, if he
would, to fight for the Romans.
Another battle took place in the valley, and the Romans again began to
flee. Romulus now prayed to Jupiter, and vowed to erect to him a temple
as Jupiter Stator,--that is, the "stayer,"--if he would stay the Romans
in their flight. Jupiter did so, or, at any rate, the Romans turned
again to the fight, which now waxed furious. What would have been its
result we cannot tell, for it was brought to an end by the other
romantic incident of which we have spoken.
In fact, while the fathers of the Sabine virgins retained their anger
against the Romans, the virgins themselves, who had now long been
brides, had become comforted, most of them being as attached to their
husbands as they had been to their parents before; and in the midst of
the furious battle between their nearest relatives the lately abducted
damsels were seen rushing down the Palatine Hill, and forcing their way,
with appealing eyes and dishevelled hair, in between the combatants.
"Make us not twice captives!" they earnestly exclaimed, saying
pathetically that if the war went on they would be widowed or
fatherless, both of which sad alternatives they deplored.
The result of this appeal was a happy one. Both sides let fall their
arms, and peace was declared upon the spot, it being recognized that
there could be no closer bond of unity than that made by the daughters
of the Sabines and wives of the Romans. The two people agreed to become
one, the Sabines making their new home on the Capitoline and Quirinal
Hills, and the Romans continuing to occupy the Palatine. As for the
women, there was established in their honor the feast called Matronalia,
in which husbands gave presents to their wives and lovers to their
betrothed. Romulus and Tatius were to rule jointly, and afterwards the
king of Rome should be alternately of Roman and Sabine birth.
After five years Tatius was killed in a quarrel, and Romulus became sole
king. Under him Rome grew rapidly. He was successful in his wars, and
enriched his people with the spoils of his enemies In rule he was just
and gentle, and punished those guilty of crime not by death, but by
fines of sheep or oxen. It is said, though, that he grew somewhat
arrogant, and was accustomed to receive his people dressed in scarlet
and lying on a couch of state, where he was surrounded by a body of
young men called Celeres, from the speed with which they flew to
execute his orders.
For nearly forty years his reign continued, and then his end came
strangely. One day he called the people together in the Field of Mars.
But suddenly there arose a frightful storm, with such terrible thunder
and lightning and such midnight darkness that the people fled homeward
in affright through the drenching rain. That was the last of Romulus. He
was never seen in life again. He may have been slain by enemies, but the
popular belief was that Mars, his father, had carried him up to heaven
in his chariot. All that the people knew was that one night, when
Proculus Julius, a friend of the king, was on his way from Alba to Rome,
he met Romulus by the way, his stature beyond that of man, and his face
showing the beauty of the gods.
Proculus asked him why he had left the people to sorrow and wicked
surmises, for some said that the senators had made away with him.
Romulus replied that it was the wish of the gods that, after building a
city that was destined to the greatest empire and glory, he should go to
heaven and dwell with the gods.
"Go and tell my people that they must not weep for me any more," he
said; "but bid them to be brave and warlike, and so shall they make my
city the greatest on the earth."
This story satisfied the people that their king had been made a god; so
they built a temple to him, and always afterwards worshipped him under
the name of the god Quirinus. A festival called the Quirinalia was
celebrated each year on the 17th of February, the day on which he had
vanished from the eyes of men.