[1.0] THESE are the researches of Herodotus
of Halicarnassus, which he publishes, in the hope of thereby preserving from
decay the remembrance of what men have done, and of preventing the great and
wonderful actions of the Greeks and the Barbarians from losing their due meed of glory; and withal to put on record what were their
grounds of feuds.
[1.1] According to the Persians best informed
in history, the Phoenicians began to quarrel. This people, who had formerly
dwelt on the shores of the
[1.2] At a later period, certain Greeks, with
whose name they are unacquainted, but who would probably be Cretans, made a
landing at Tyre, on the Phoenician coast, and bore
off the king’s daughter, Europe. In this they only retaliated; but afterwards
the Greeks, they say, were guilty of a second violence. They manned a ship of
war, and sailed to Aea, a city of
[1.3] In the next generation afterwards,
according to the same authorities, Alexander the son of Priam,
bearing these events in mind, resolved to procure himself a wife out of Greece
by violence, fully persuaded, that as the Greeks had not given satisfaction for
their outrages, so neither would he be forced to make any for his. Accordingly
he made prize of Helen; upon which the Greeks decided that, before resorting to
other measures, they would send envoys to reclaim the princess and require
reparation of the wrong. Their demands were met by a reference to the violence
which had been offered to Medea, and they were asked with what face they could
now require satisfaction, when they had formerly rejected all demands for
either reparation or restitution addressed to them.
[1.4] Hitherto the injuries on either side
had been mere acts of common violence; but in what followed the Persians
consider that the Greeks were greatly to blame, since before any attack had
been made on Europe, they led an army into Asia. Now as for the carrying off of
women, it is the deed, they say, of a rogue: but to make a stir about such as
are carried off, argues a man a fool. Men of sense care nothing for such women,
since it is plain that without their own consent they would never be forced
away. The Asiatics, when the Greeks ran off with
their women, never troubled themselves about the matter; but the Greeks, for
the sake of a single Lacedaemonian girl, collected a
vast armament, invaded Asia, and destroyed the
[1.5] Such is the
account which the Persians give of these matters. They trace to the attack upon
[1.6] Croesus, son of Alyattes,
by birth a Lydian, was lord of all the nations to the west of the river Halys. This stream, which separates
[1.7] The
sovereignty of
[1.8] Now it happened that this Candaules was in love with his own wife; and not only so,
but thought her the fairest woman in the whole world. This fancy had strange
consequences. There was in his bodyguard a man whom he specially favoured, Gyges, the son of Dascylus. All affairs of greatest moment were entrusted by Candaules to this person, and to him he was wont to extol
the surpassing beauty of his wife. So matters went on for a while. At length,
one day, Candaules, who was fated to end ill, thus
addressed his follower: “I see thou dost not credit what I tell thee of my
lady’s loveliness; but come now, since men’s ears are less credulous than their
eyes, contrive some means whereby thou mayst behold
her naked.” At this the other loudly exclaimed, saying, “What most unwise
speech is this, master, which thou hast uttered? Wouldst thou have me behold my
mistress when she is naked? Bethink thee that a woman, with her clothes, puts
off her bashfulness. Our fathers, in time past, distinguished right and wrong
plainly enough, and it is our wisdom to submit to be taught by them. There is
an old saying, ‘Let each look on his own.’ I hold thy
wife for the fairest of all womankind. Only, I beseech
thee, ask me not to do wickedly.”
[1.9] Gyges thus endeavoured to decline the king’s proposal, trembling lest
some dreadful evil should befall him through it. But the king replied to him,
“Courage, friend; suspect me not of the design to prove thee by this discourse;
nor dread thy mistress, lest mischief be. thee at her
hands. Be sure I will so manage that she shall not even know that thou hast
looked upon her. I will place thee behind the open door of the chamber in which
we sleep. When I enter to go to rest she will follow me. There stands a chair
close to the entrance, on which she will lay her clothes one by one as she
takes them off. Thou wilt be able thus at thy leisure to peruse her person.
Then, when she is moving from the chair toward the bed, and her back is turned
on thee, be it thy care that she see thee not as thou passest
through the doorway.”
[1.10] Gyges,
unable to escape, could but declare his readiness. Then Candaules,
when bedtime came, led Gyges into his
sleeping-chamber, and a moment after the queen followed. She entered, and laid
her garments on the chair, and Gyges gazed on her.
After a while she moved toward the bed, and her back being then turned, he
glided stealthily from the apartment. As he was passing out, however, she saw
him, and instantly divining what had happened, she neither screamed as her
shame impelled her, nor even appeared to have noticed aught, purposing to take
vengeance upon the husband who had so affronted her. For among the Lydians,
and indeed among the barbarians generally, it is reckoned a deep disgrace, even
to a man, to be seen naked.
[1.11] No sound or sign of intelligence
escaped her at the time. But in the morning, as soon as day broke, she hastened
to choose from among her retinue such as she knew to be most faithful to her, and
preparing them for what was to ensue, summoned Gyges
into her presence. Now it had often happened before that the queen had desired
to confer with him, and he was accustomed to come to her at her call. He
therefore obeyed the summons, not suspecting that she knew aught of what had
occurred. Then she addressed these words to him: “Take thy choice, Gyges, of two courses which are open to thee. Slay Candaules, and thereby become my lord, and obtain the
Lydian throne, or die this moment in his room. So wilt thou not again, obeying
all behests of thy master, behold what is not lawful for thee. It must needs be
that either he perish by whose counsel this thing was done, or thou, who sawest me naked, and so didst break our usages.” At these
words Gyges stood awhile in mute astonishment;
recovering after a time, he earnestly besought the queen that she would not
compel him to so hard a choice. But finding he implored in vain, and that
necessity was indeed laid on him to kill or to be killed, he made choice of life
for himself, and replied by this inquiry: “If it must be so, and thou compellest me against my will to put my lord to death,
come, let me hear how thou wilt have me set on him.” “Let him be attacked,” she
answered, “on the spot where I was by him shown naked to you, and let the
assault be made when he is asleep.”
[1.12] All was then prepared for the attack,
and when night fell, Gyges, seeing that he had no
retreat or escape, but must absolutely either slay Candaules,
or himself be slain, followed his mistress into the sleeping-room. She placed a
dagger in his hand and hid him carefully behind the self-same door. Then Gyges, when the king was fallen asleep, entered privily into the chamber and struck him dead. Thus did the
wife and kingdom of Candaules pass into the
possession of Gyges, of whom Archilochus
the Parian, who lived about the same time, made
mention in a poem written in iambic trimeter verse.
[1.13] Gyges was
afterwards confirmed in the possession of the throne by an answer of the
Delphic oracle. Enraged at the murder of their king, the people flew to arms,
but after a while the partisans of Gyges came to
terms with them, and it was agreed that if the Delphic oracle declared him king
of the Lydians, he should reign; if otherwise, he
should yield the throne to the Heraclides. As the
oracle was given in his favour he became king. The
Pythoness, however, added that, in the fifth generation from Gyges, vengeance should come for the Heraclides;
a prophecy of which neither the Lydians nor their
princes took any account till it was fulfilled. Such was the way in which the Mermnadae deposed the Heraclides,
and themselves obtained the sovereignty.
[1.14] When Gyges
was established on the throne, he sent no small presents to Delphi, as his many
silver offerings at the Delphic shrine testify. Besides this silver he gave a
vast number of vessels of gold, among which the most worthy of mention are the
goblets, six in number, and weighing altogether thirty talents, which stand in
the Corinthian treasury, dedicated by him. I call it the Corinthian treasury,
though in strictness of speech it is the treasury not of the whole Corinthian
people, but of Cypselus, son of Eetion.
Excepting Midas, son of Gordias, king of Phrygia, Gyges was the first of the barbarians whom we know to have
sent offerings to
As soon as Gyges
was king he made an in-road on
[1.15] Ardys took Priene and made war upon
[1.16] This prince waged war with the Medes
under Cyaxares, the grandson of Deioces,
drove the Cimmerians out of Asia, conquered Smyrna, the Colophonian
colony, and invaded Clazomenae. From this last
contest he did not come off as he could have wished, but met with a sore
defeat; still, however, in the course of his reign, he performed other actions
very worthy of note, of which I will now proceed to give an account.
[1.17] Inheriting from his father a war with
the Milesians, he pressed the siege against the city
by attacking it in the following manner. When the harvest was ripe on the
ground he marched his army into Milesia to the sound
of pipes and harps, and flutes masculine and feminine. The buildings that were
scattered over the country he neither pulled down nor burnt, nor did he even
tear away the doors, but left them standing as they were. He cut down, however,
and utterly destroyed all the trees and all the corn throughout the land, and
then returned to his own dominions. It was idle for his army to sit down before
the place, as the Milesians were masters of the sea.
The reason that he did not demolish their buildings was that the inhabitants
might be tempted to use them as homesteads from which to go forth to sow and
till their lands; and so each time that he invaded the country he might find
something to plunder.
[1.18] In this way he carried on the war with
the Milesians for eleven years, in the course of
which he inflicted on them two terrible blows; one in their own country in the
district of Limeneium, the other in the plain of the Maeander.
During six of these eleven years, Sadyattes, the son
of Ardys who first lighted the flames of this war,
was king of
[1.19] It was in the
twelfth year of the war that the following mischance occurred from the firing
of the harvest-fields. Scarcely had the corn been set alight by the soldiers
when a violent wind carried the flames against the
[1.20] Thus much I know from information
given me by the Delphians; the remainder of the story
the Milesians add.
The answer made by the oracle came to the
ears of Periander, son of Cypselus,
who was a very close friend to Thrasybulus, tyrant of
THUCYDIDES, an Athenian, wrote the history of
the war between the Peloponnesians and the Athenians, beginning at the moment
that it broke out, and believing that it would be a great war and more worthy
of relation than any that had preceded it. This belief was not without its
grounds. The preparations of both the combatants were in every department in
the last state of perfection; and he could see the rest of the Hellenic race
taking sides in the quarrel; those who delayed doing so at once having it in
contemplation. Indeed this was the greatest movement yet known in history, not
only of the Hellenes, but of a large part of the barbarian world—I had almost
said of mankind. For though the events of remote antiquity, and even those that
more immediately preceded the war, could not from lapse of time be clearly
ascertained, yet the evidences which an inquiry carried as far back as was
practicable leads me to trust, all point to the conclusion that there was
nothing on a great scale, either in war or in other matters.
For instance, it is evident that the country
now called
There is also another circumstance that
contributes not a little to my conviction of the weakness of ancient times.
Before the Trojan war there is no indication of any common action in Hellas,
nor indeed of the universal prevalence of the name; on the contrary, before the
time of Hellen, son of Deucalion, no such appellation
existed, but the country went by the names of the different tribes, in
particular of the Pelasgian. It was not till Hellen and his sons grew strong in Phthiotis,
and were invited as allies into the other cities, that one by one they
gradually acquired from the connection the name of Hellenes; though a long time
elapsed before that name could fasten itself upon all. The best proof of this
is furnished by Homer. Born long after the Trojan War, he nowhere calls all of
them by that name, nor indeed any of them except the
followers of Achilles from Phthiotis, who were the
original Hellenes: in his poems they are called Danaans,
Argives, and Achaeans. He does not even use the term
barbarian, probably because the Hellenes had not yet been marked off from the
rest of the world by one distinctive appellation. It appears therefore that the
several Hellenic communities, comprising not only those who first acquired the
name, city by city, as they came to understand each other, but also those who
assumed it afterwards as the name of the whole people, were before the Trojan
war prevented by their want of strength and the absence of mutual intercourse
from displaying any collective action.
Indeed, they could not unite for this
expedition till they had gained increased familiarity with the sea. And the
first person known to us by tradition as having established a navy is Minos. He
made himself master of what is now called the Hellenic sea, and ruled over the
Cyclades, into most of which he sent the first colonies, expelling the Carians and appointing his own sons governors; and thus did
his best to put down piracy in those waters, a necessary step to secure the
revenues for his own use.
For in early times the Hellenes and the
barbarians of the coast and islands, as communication by sea became more
common, were tempted to turn pirates, under the conduct of their most powerful
men; the motives being to serve their own cupidity and to support the needy.
They would fall upon a town unprotected by walls, and consisting of a mere
collection of villages, and would plunder it; indeed, this came to be the main
source of their livelihood, no disgrace being yet attached to such an
achievement, but even some glory. An illustration of this is furnished by the honour with which some of the inhabitants of the continent
still regard a successful marauder, and by the question we find the old poets
everywhere representing the people as asking of voyagers—“Are they pirates?”—as
if those who are asked the question would have no idea of disclaiming the
imputation, or their interrogators of reproaching them for it. The same rapine
prevailed also by land.
And even at the present day many of
THE next summer Alcibiades sailed with twenty
ships to Argos and seized the suspected persons still left of the Lacedaemonian faction to the number of three hundred, whom
the Athenians forthwith lodged in the neighbouring
islands of their empire. The Athenians also made an expedition against the isle
of Melos with thirty ships of their own, six Chian,
and two Lesbian vessels, sixteen hundred heavy infantry, three hundred archers,
and twenty mounted archers from
Athenians. Since the negotiations are not to go on before the
people, in order that we may not be able to speak straight on without
interruption, and deceive the ears of the multitude by seductive arguments
which would pass without refutation (for we know that this is the meaning of
our being brought before the few), what if you who sit there were to pursue a
method more cautious still? Make no set speech yourselves, but take us up at
whatever you do not like, and settle that before going any farther. And first
tell us if this proposition of ours suits you.
The Melian
commissioners answered:
Melians. To the fairness of quietly instructing each other as
you propose there is nothing to object; but your military preparations are too
far advanced to agree with what you say, as we see you are come to be judges in
your own cause, and that all we can reasonably expect from this negotiation is
war, if we prove to have right on our side and refuse to submit, and in the
contrary case, slavery.
Athenians. If you have met to reason about presentiments of the
future, or for anything else than to consult for the safety of your state upon
the facts that you see before you, we will give over; otherwise we will go on.
Melians. It is natural and excusable for men in our position
to turn more ways than one both in thought and utterance. However, the question
in this conference is, as you say, the safety of our country; and the
discussion, if you please, can proceed in the way which you propose.
Athenians. For ourselves, we shall not trouble you with specious
pretences—either of how we have a right to our empire because we overthrew the
Mede, or are now attacking you because of wrong that you have done us—and make
a long speech which would not be believed; and in return we hope that you,
instead of thinking to influence us by saying that you did not join the Lacedaemonians, although their colonists, or that you have
done us no wrong, will aim at what is feasible, holding in view the real
sentiments of us both; since you know as well as we do that right, as the world
goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what
they can and the weak suffer what they must.
Melians. As we think, at any rate, it is expedient—we speak as
we are obliged, since you enjoin us to let right alone and talk only of
interest—that you should not destroy what is our common protection, the
privilege of being allowed in danger to invoke what is fair and right, and even
to profit by arguments not strictly valid if they can be got to pass current.
And you are as much interested in this as any, as your fall would be a signal
for the heaviest vengeance and an example for the world to meditate upon.
Athenians. The end of our empire, if end it should, does not
frighten us: a rival empire like Lacedaemon, even if Lacedaemon was our real
antagonist, is not so terrible to the vanquished as subjects who by themselves
attack and overpower their rulers. This, however, is a risk that we are content
to take. We will now proceed to show you that we are come here in the interest
of our empire, and that we shall say what we are now going to say, for the
preservation of your country; as we would fain exercise that empire over you
without trouble, and see you preserved for the good of us both.
Melians. And how, pray, could it turn out as good for us to
serve as for you to rule?
Athenians. Because you would have the
advantage of submitting before suffering the worst, and we should gain by not
destroying you.
Melians. So that you would not consent to
our being neutral, friends instead of enemies, but allies of neither side.
Athenians. No; for your hostility cannot so much hurt us as your
friendship will be an argument to our subjects of our weakness, and your enmity
of our power.
Melians. Is that your subjects’ idea of equity, to put those
who have nothing to do with you in the same category with peoples that are most
of them your own colonists, and some conquered rebels?
Athenians. As far as right goes they think one has as much of it
as the other, and that if any maintain their independence it is because they
are strong, and that if we do not molest them it is because we are afraid; so
that besides extending our empire we should gain in security by your
subjection; the fact that you are islanders and weaker than others rendering it
all the more important that you should not succeed in baffling the masters of
the sea.
Melians. But do you consider that there is no security in the
policy which we indicate? For here again if you debar us from talking about
justice and invite us to obey your interest, we also must explain ours, and try
to persuade you, if the two happen to coincide. How can you avoid making
enemies of all existing neutrals who shall look at case from it that one day or
another you will attack them? And what is this but to make greater the enemies
that you have already, and to force others to become so who would otherwise
have never thought of it?
Athenians. Why, the fact is that continentals generally give us
but little alarm; the liberty which they enjoy will long prevent their taking
precautions against us; it is rather islanders like yourselves, outside our
empire, and subjects smarting under the yoke, who would be the most likely to
take a rash step and lead themselves and us into obvious danger.
Melians. Well then, if you risk so much to retain your empire,
and your subjects to get rid of it, it were surely great baseness and cowardice
in us who are still free not to try everything that can be tried, before
submitting to your yoke.
Athenians. Not if you are well advised, the contest not being an
equal one, with honour as the prize and shame as the
penalty, but a question of self-preservation and of not resisting those who are
far stronger than you are.
Melians. But we know that the fortune of war is sometimes more
impartial than the disproportion of numbers might lead one to suppose; to
submit is to give ourselves over to despair, while action still preserves for
us a hope that we may stand erect.
Athenians. Hope, danger’s comforter, may be indulged in by those
who have abundant resources, if not without loss at all events without ruin;
but its nature is to be extravagant, and those who go so far as to put their
all upon the venture see it in its true colours only
when they are ruined; but so long as the discovery would enable them to guard
against it, it is never found wanting. Let not this be the case with you, who
are weak and hang on a single turn of the scale; nor be like the vulgar, who,
abandoning such security as human means may still afford, when visible hopes
fail them in extremity, turn to invisible, to prophecies and oracles, and other
such inventions that delude men with hopes to their destruction.
Melians. You may be sure that we are as well aware as you of
the difficulty of contending against your power and fortune, unless the terms be equal. But we trust that the gods may grant us fortune as
good as yours, since we are just men fighting against unjust, and that what we
want in power will be made up by the alliance of the Lacedaemonians,
who are bound, if only for very shame, to come to the aid of their kindred. Our
confidence, therefore, after all is not so utterly irrational.
Athenians. When you speak of the favour
of the gods, we may as fairly hope for that as yourselves; neither our
pretensions nor our conduct being in any way contrary to what men believe of
the gods, or practise among themselves. Of the gods
we believe, and of men we know, that by a necessary law of their nature they
rule wherever they can. And it is not as if we were the first to make this law,
or to act upon it when made: we found it existing before us, and shall leave it
to exist for ever after us; all we do is to make use of it, knowing that you
and everybody else, having the same power as we have, would do the same as we
do. Thus, as far as the gods are concerned, we have no fear and no reason to
fear that we shall be at a disadvantage. But when we come to your notion about
the Lacedaemonians, which leads you to believe that
shame will make them help you, here we bless your simplicity but do not envy
your folly. The Lacedaemonians, when their own
interests or their country’s laws are in question, are the worthiest men alive;
of their conduct towards others much might be said, but no clearer idea of it
could be given than by shortly saying that of all the men we know they are most
conspicuous in considering what is agreeable honourable,
and what is expedient just. Such a way of thinking does not promise much for
the safety which you now unreasonably count upon.
Melians. But it is for this very reason that we now trust to
their respect for expediency to prevent them from betraying the Melians, their colonists, and thereby losing the confidence
of their friends in
Athenians. Then you do not adopt the view that expediency goes
with security, while justice and honour cannot be
followed without danger; and danger the Lacedaemonians
generally court as little as possible.
Melians. But we believe that they would be more likely to face
even danger for our sake, and with more confidence than for others, as our
nearness to
Athenians. Yes, but what an intending ally trusts to is not the
goodwill of those who ask his aid, but a decided superiority of power for
action; and the Lacedaemonians look to this even more
than others. At least, such is their distrust of their home resources that it
is only with numerous allies that they attack a neighbour;
now is it likely that while we are masters of the sea they will cross over to
an island?
Melians. But they would have others to send. The
Athenians. Some diversion of the kind you speak of you may one
day experience, only to learn, as others have done, that the Athenians never
once yet withdrew from a siege for fear of any. But we are struck by the fact
that, after saying you would consult for the safety of your country, in all
this discussion you have mentioned nothing which men might trust in and think to
be saved by. Your strongest arguments depend upon hope and the future, and your
actual resources are too scanty, as compared with those arrayed against you,
for you to come out victorious. You will therefore show great blindness of
judgment, unless, after allowing us to retire, you can find some counsel more
prudent than this. You will surely not be caught by that idea of disgrace,
which in dangers that are disgraceful, and at the same time too plain to be
mistaken, proves so fatal to mankind; since in too many cases the very men that
have their eyes perfectly open to what they are rushing into, let the thing
called disgrace, by the mere influence of a seductive name, lead them on to a
point at which they become so enslaved by the phrase as in fact to fall wilfully into hopeless disaster, and incur disgrace more
disgraceful as the companion of error, than when it comes as the result of
misfortune. This, if you are well advised, you will guard against; and you will
not think it dishonourable to submit to the greatest
city in Hellas, when it makes you the moderate offer of becoming its tributary
ally, without ceasing to enjoy the country that belongs to you; nor when you
have the choice given you between war and security, will you be so blinded as
to choose the worse. And it is certain that those who do not yield to their
equals, who keep terms with their superiors, and are moderate towards their
inferiors, on the whole succeed best. Think over the matter, therefore, after
our withdrawal, and reflect once and again that it is for your country that you
are consulting, that you have not more than one, and that upon this one
deliberation depends its prosperity or ruin.
The Athenians now withdrew from the
conference; and the Melians, left to themselves, came to a decision corresponding with what they
had maintained in the discussion, and answered: “Our resolution, Athenians, is
the same as it was at first. We will not in a moment deprive of freedom a city
that has been inhabited these seven hundred years; but we put our trust in the
fortune by which the gods have preserved it until now, and in the help of men,
that is, of the Lacedaemonians; and so we will try
and save ourselves. Meanwhile we invite you to allow us to be friends to you
and foes to neither party, and to retire from our country after making such a
treaty as shall seem fit to us both.”
Such was the answer of the Melians. The Athenians now departing from the conference
said: “Well, you alone, as it seems to us, judging from these resolutions,
regard what is future as more certain than what is before your eyes, and what
is out of sight, in your eagerness, as already coming to pass; and as you have
staked most on, and trusted most in, the Lacedaemonians,
your fortune, and your hopes, so will you be most completely deceived.”
The Athenian envoys now returned to the army;
and the Melians showing no signs of yielding, the
generals at once betook themselves to hostilities, and drew a line of
circumvallation round the Melians, dividing the work
among the different states. Subsequently the Athenians returned with most of
their army, leaving behind them a certain number of their own citizens and of
the allies to keep guard by land and sea. The force thus left stayed on and
besieged the place.
About the same time the Argives
invaded the
Summer was now over. The next winter the Lacedaemonians intended to invade the Argive territory, but
arriving at the frontier found the sacrifices for crossing unfavourable,
and went back again. This intention of theirs gave the Argives
suspicions of certain of their fellow citizens, some of whom they arrested;
others, however, escaped them. About the same time the Melians
again took another part of the Athenian lines which were but feebly garrisoned.
Reinforcements afterwards arriving from Athens in consequence, under the
command of Philocrates, son of Demeas,
the siege was now pressed vigorously; and some treachery taking place inside,
the Melians surrendered at discretion to the
Athenians, who put to death all the grown men whom they took, and sold the
women and children for slaves, and subsequently sent out five hundred colonists
and inhabited the place themselves.
1 Had previous chroniclers neglected to speak in praise
of History in general, it might perhaps have been necessary for me to recommend
everyone to choose for study and welcome such treatises as the present, since
men have no more ready corrective of conduct than knowledge of the past. 2But all historians, one may say without exception, and in no
half-hearted manner, but making this the beginning and end of their labour, have impressed on us that the soundest education
and training for a life of active politics is the study of History, and that
surest and indeed the only method of learning how to bear bravely the
vicissitudes of fortune, is to recall the calamities of others. 3Evidently
therefore no one, and least of all myself, would think it his duty at this day
to repeat what has been so well and so often said. 4For the
very element of unexpectedness in the events I have chosen as my theme
will be sufficient to challenge and incite everyone, young and old alike, to
peruse my systematic history. 5For who is so worthless or
indolent as not to wish to know by what means and under what system of polity
the Romans in less than fifty-three years have succeeded in subjecting nearly
the whole inhabited world to their sole government — a thing unique in
history? 6Or who again is there so
passionately devoted to other spectacles or studies as to regard anything as of
greater moment than the acquisition of this knowledge?
2 How striking and grand is the spectacle presented by
the period with which I purpose to deal, will be most clearly apparent if
we set beside and compare with the Roman dominion the most famous empires of
the past, those which have formed the chief theme of historians. 2Those
worthy of being thus set beside it and compared are these. The Persians for a
certain period possessed a great rule and dominion, but so
often as they ventured to overstep the boundaries of
3 The date from which I propose to begin my
history is the 140th Olympiad [220‑216 B.C.], and the events are the
following: (1) in Greece the so‑called Social War, the first waged
against the Aetolians by the Achaeans in league with
and under the leadership of Philip of Macedon, the son of Demetrius and father
of Perseus, (2) in Asia the war for Coele-Syria
between Antiochus and Ptolemy Philopator, 2(3) in Italy, Libya, and the adjacent regions, the war
between Rome and Carthage, usually known as the Hannibalic
War. These events immediately succeed those related at the end of the work of Aratus of Sicyon. 3Previously the doings of
the world had been, so to say, dispersed, as they were held together by no
unity of initiative, results, or locality; 4but ever since this
date history has been an organic whole, and the affairs of Italy and Libya have
been interlinked with those of Greece and Asia, all leading up to one end. 5And this is my reason for beginning their systematic history from
that date. 6For it was owing to their defeat of the
Carthaginians in the Hannibalic War that the Romans,
feeling that the chief and most essential step in their scheme of universal
aggression had now been taken, were first emboldened to reach out their hands
to grasp the rest and to cross with an army to Greece and the continent of
Asia. 7Now were we Greeks well acquainted with the two states
which disputed the empire of the world, it would not perhaps have been
necessary for me to deal at all with their previous history, or to narrate what
purpose guided them, and on what sources of strength they relied, in entering
upon such a vast undertaking. 8But as neither the former power
nor the earlier history of Rome and Carthage is familiar to most of us Greeks,
I thought it necessary to prefix this Book and the next to the actual
history, 9in order that no one after becoming engrossed in the
narrative proper may find himself at a loss, and ask by what counsel and
trusting to what power and resources the Romans embarked on that enterprise
which has made them lords over land and sea in our part of the world; 10but that from these Books and the preliminary sketch in them,
it may be clear to readers that they had quite adequate grounds for conceiving
the ambition of a world-empire and adequate means for achieving their purpose.
4 For what gives my work its peculiar quality, and what
is most remarkable in the present age, is this. Fortune has guided almost all
the affairs of the world in one direction and has forced them to incline
towards one and the same end; 2a historian should likewise
bring before his readers under one synoptical view
the operations by which she has accomplished her general purpose. Indeed it was
this chiefly that invited and encouraged me to
undertake my task; and secondarily the fact that none of my contemporaries have
undertaken to write a general history, in which case I should have been
much less eager to take this in hand. 3As it is, I observe
that while several modern writers deal with particular wars and certain matters
connected with them, no one, as far as I am aware, has even attempted to
inquire critically when and whence the general and comprehensive scheme of
events originated and how it led up to the end. 4I therefore
thought it quite necessary not to leave unnoticed or allow to
pass into oblivion this the finest and most beneficent of the
performances of Fortune. 5For though she is ever producing something
new and ever playing a part in the lives of men, she has not in a single
instance ever accomplished such a work, ever achieved such a triumph, as in our
own times. 6We can no more hope to perceive this from histories
dealing with particular events than to get at once a notion of the form of the
whole world, its disposition and order, by visiting, each in turn, the most
famous cities, or indeed by looking at separate plans of each: a result by
no means likely. 7He indeed who believes that by studying isolated
histories he can acquire a fairly just view of history as a whole, is, as it
seems to me, much in the case of one, who, after having looked at the
dissevered limbs of an animal once alive and beautiful, fancies he has been as
good as an eyewitness of the creature itself in all its action and grace. 8For could anyone put the creature together on the spot, restoring
its form and the comeliness of life, and then show it to the same man,
I think he would quickly avow that he was formerly very far away from the
truth and more like one in a dream. 9For we can get some idea
of a whole from a part, but never knowledge or exact opinion. 10Special
histories therefore contribute very little to the knowledge of the whole and
conviction of its truth. 11It is only indeed by study of the interconnexion of all the particulars, their resemblances
and differences, that we are enabled at least to make a general survey, and
thus derive both benefit and pleasure from history.
5 I shall adopt as the starting-point of this Book
the first occasion on which the Romans crossed the sea from
PREFACE
[1.Preface]Whether
the task I have undertaken of writing a complete history of the Roman people
from the very commencement of its existence will reward me for the labour spent on it, I neither know for certain, nor if I
did know would I venture to say. For I see that this is an old-established and
a common practice, each fresh writer being invariably persuaded that he will
either attain greater certainty in the materials of his narrative, or surpass
the rudeness of antiquity in the excellence of his style. However this may be,
it will still be a great satisfaction to me to have taken my part, too, in
investing, to the utmost of my abilities, the annals of the foremost nation in
the world with a deeper interest; and if in such a crowd of writers my own
reputation is thrown into the shade, I would console myself with the renown and
greatness of those who eclipse my fame. The subject, moreover, is one that
demands immense labour. It goes back beyond 700 years
and, after starting from small and humble beginnings, has grown to such
dimensions that it begins to be overburdened by its greatness. I have very
little doubt, too, that for the majority of my readers the earliest times and
those immediately succeeding, will possess little
attraction; they will hurry on to these modern days in which the might of a
long paramount nation is wasting by internal decay. I, on the other hand, shall
look for a further reward of my labours in being able
to close my eyes to the evils which our generation has witnessed for so many
years; so long, at least, as I am devoting all my thoughts to retracing those
pristine records, free from all the anxiety which can disturb the historian of
his own times even if it cannot warp him from the truth.
The traditions of what happened prior to the
foundation of the City or whilst it was being built, are more fitted to adorn
the creations of the poet than the authentic records of the historian, and I
have no intention of establishing either their truth or their falsehood. This
much licence is conceded to the ancients, that by
intermingling human actions with divine they may confer a more august dignity
on the origins of states. Now, if any nation ought to be allowed to claim a
sacred origin and point back to a divine paternity that nation is
There is this exceptionally beneficial and
fruitful advantage to be derived from the study of the past,
that you see, set in the clear light of historical truth, examples of
every possible type. From these you may select for yourself and your country
what to imitate, and also what, as being mischievous in its inception and
disastrous in its issues, you are to avoid. Unless, however, I am misled by
affection for my undertaking, there has never existed any commonwealth greater
in power, with a purer morality, or more fertile in good examples; or any state
in which avarice and luxury have been so late in making their inroads, or
poverty and frugality so highly and continuously honoured,
showing so clearly that the less wealth men possessed the less they coveted. In
these latter years wealth has brought avarice in its train, and the unlimited
command of pleasure has created in men a passion for ruining themselves and
everything else through self-indulgence and licentiousness. But criticisms
which will be unwelcome, even when perhaps necessary, must not appear in the
commencement at all events of this extensive work. We should much prefer to
start with favourable omens, and if we could have
adopted the poets' custom, it would have been much pleasanter to commence with
prayers and supplications to gods and goddesses that they would grant a favourable and successful issue to the great task before
us.
Book
1: The Earliest Legends
[1.1]To begin with,
it is generally admitted that after the capture of Troy, whilst the rest of the
Trojans were massacred, against two of them - Aeneas and Antenor
- the Achivi refused to exercise the rights of war,
partly owing to old ties of hospitality, and partly because these men had
always been in favour of making peace and
surrendering Helen. Their subsequent fortunes were different. Antenor sailed into the furthest part of the Adriatic,
accompanied by a number of Enetians who had been
driven from Paphlagonia by a revolution, and after
losing their king Pylaemenes before
From this point there is a twofold tradition.
According to the one, Latinus was defeated in battle,
and made peace with Aeneas, and subsequently a family alliance. According to
the other, whilst the two armies were standing ready to engage and waiting for
the signal, Latinus advanced in front of his lines
and invited the leader of the strangers to a conference. He inquired of him
what manner of men they were, whence they came, what had happened to make them
leave their homes, what were they in quest of when they landed in Latinus' territory. When he heard that the men were
Trojans, that their leader was Aeneas, the son of Anchises
and Venus, that their city had been burnt, and that the homeless exiles were
now looking for a place to settle in and build a city, he was so struck with
the noble bearing of the men and their leader, and their readiness to accept
alike either peace or war, that he gave his right hand as a solemn pledge of
friendship for the future. A formal treaty was made between the leaders and
mutual greetings exchanged between the armies. Latinus
received Aeneas as a guest in his house, and there, in the presence of his
tutelary deities, completed the political alliance by a domestic one, and gave
his daughter in marriage to Aeneas. This incident confirmed the Trojans in the
hope that they had reached the term of their wanderings and won a permanent
home. They built a town, which Aeneas called Lavinium
after his wife. In a short time a boy was born of the new marriage, to whom his parents gave the name of Ascanius.
[1.2]In a short
time the Aborigines and Trojans became involved in war with Turnus,
the king of the Rutulians. Lavinia
had been betrothed to him before the arrival of Aeneas, and, furious at finding
a stranger preferred to him, he declared war against both Latinus
and Aeneas. Neither side could congratulate themselves on the
result of the battle; the Rutulians were defeated,
but the victorious Aborigines and Trojans lost their leader Latinus.
Feeling their need of allies, Turnus and the Rutulians had recourse to the celebrated power of the
Etruscans and Mezentius, their king, who was reigning
at Caere, a wealthy city in those days. From the
first he had felt anything but pleasure at the rise of the
[1.3]His son, Ascanius, was not old enough to assume the government; but
his throne remained secure throughout his minority. During that interval - such
was Lavinia's force of character - though a woman was
regent, the
Ascanius was succeeded by his son Silvius,
who by some chance had been born in the forest. He became the father of Aeneas Silvius, who in his turn had a son, Latinus
Silvius. He planted a number of colonies: the
colonists were called Prisci Latini.
The cognomen of Silvius was common to all the
remaining kings of Alba, each of whom succeeded his father. Their names are
Alba, Atys, Capys, Capetus, Tiberinus, who was
drowned in crossing the Albula, and his name
transferred to the river, which became henceforth the famous
[1.4]But the Fates
had, I believe, already decreed the origin of this great city and the
foundation of the mightiest empire under heaven. The Vestal was forcibly
violated and gave birth to twins. She named Mars as their father, either
because she really believed it, or because the fault might appear less heinous
if a deity were the cause of it. But neither gods nor men sheltered her or her
babes from the king's cruelty; the priestess was thrown into prison, the boys
were ordered to be thrown into the river. By a heaven-sent chance it happened
that the
[1.5]It is said
that the festival of the Lupercalia, which is still
observed, was even in those days celebrated on the Palatine hill. This hill was
originally called Pallantium from a city of the same
name in
[1.6]At the
beginning of the fray, Numitor gave out that an enemy
had entered the City and was attacking the palace, in order to draw off the
Alban soldiery to the citadel, to defend it. When he saw the young men coming
to congratulate him after the assassination, he at once called a council of his
people and explained his brother's infamous conduct towards him, the story of
his grandsons, their parentage and bringing up, and how he recognised
them. Then he proceeded to inform them of the tyrant's death and his
responsibility for it. The young men marched in order through the midst of the
assembly and saluted their grandfather as king; their action was approved by
the whole population, who with one voice ratified the title and sovereignty of
the king. After the government of Alba was thus transferred to Numitor,
[1.7]Remus is said
to have been the first to receive an omen: six vultures appeared to him. The
augury had just been announced to
Publius Cornelius Tacitus
(Tacitus)
(c. A.D. 56 - c. 120)
The Agricola
Text Source: The Oxford Translation Revised, With Notes. With An Introduction by Edward Brooks, Jr.
1. The ancient custom of transmitting to
posterity the actions and manners of famous men, has not been neglected even by
the present age, incurious though it be about those belonging to it, whenever
any exalted and noble degree of virtue has triumphed over that false estimation
of merit, and that ill-will to it, by which small and great states are equally
infested. In former times, however, as there was a greater propensity and freer
scope for the performance of actions worthy of remembrance, so every person of
distinguished abilities was induced through conscious satisfaction in the task
alone, without regard to private favor or interest, to record examples of
virtue. And many considered it rather as the honest confidence of integrity,
than a culpable arrogance, to become their own biographers. Of this, Rutilius and Scaurus [1] were
instances; who were never yet censured on this
account, nor was the fidelity of their narrative called in question; so much
more candidly are virtues always estimated; in those periods which are the most
favorable to their production. For myself, however, who have undertaken to be
the historian of a person deceased, an apology seemed necessary; which I should
not have made, had my course lain through times less cruel and hostile to
virtue. [2]
2. We read that when Arulenus
Rusticus published the praises of Paetus
Thrasea, and Herennius Senecio those of Priscus Helvidius, it was construed into a capital crime; [3] and
the rage of tyranny was let loose not only against the authors, but against
their writings; so that those monuments of exalted genius were burnt at the
place of election in the forum by triumvirs appointed for the purpose. In that
fire they thought to consume the voice of the Roman people, the freedom of the
senate, and the conscious emotions of all mankind; crowning the deed by the
expulsion of the professors of wisdom, [4] and the banishment of every liberal
art, that nothing generous or honorable might remain. We gave, indeed, a
consummate proof of our patience; and as remote ages saw the very utmost degree
of liberty, so we, deprived by inquisitions of all the intercourse of conversation,
experienced the utmost of slavery. With language we should have lost memory
itself, had it been as much in our power to forget, as to be silent.
3. Now our spirits begin to revive. But
although at the first dawning of this happy period, [5] the emperor Nerva united two things before incompatible, monarchy and
liberty; and Trajan is now daily augmenting the felicity of the empire; and the
public security [6] has not only assumed hopes and wishes, but has seen those
wishes arise to confidence and stability; yet, from the nature of human
infirmity, remedies are more tardy in their operation than diseases; and, as
bodies slowly increase, but quickly perish, so it is more easy to suppress
industry and genius, than to recall them. For indolence itself
acquires a charm; and sloth, however odious at first, becomes at length
engaging. During the space of fifteen years, [7] a large portion of human life,
how great a number have fallen by casual events, and, as was the fate of all
the most distinguished, by the cruelty of the prince; whilst we, the few
survivors, not of others alone, but, if I may be allowed the expression, of
ourselves, find a void of so many years in our lives, which has silently
brought us from youth to maturity, from mature age to the very verge of life!
Still, however, I shall not regret having composed, though in rude and artless
language, a memorial of past servitude, and a testimony of present blessings.
[8]
The present work, in the
meantime, which is dedicated to the honor of my father-in-law, may be thought
to merit approbation, or at least excuse, from the piety of the intention.
4. Cnaeus
Julius Agricola was born at the ancient and illustrious colony of Forumjulii. [9] Both his grandfathers were imperial
procurators, [10] an office which confers the rank of equestrian nobility. His
father, Julius Graecinus, [11] of the senatorian order, was famous for the study of eloquence and
philosophy; and by these accomplishments he drew on himself the displeasure of
Caius Caesar; [12] for, being commanded to undertake the accusation of Marcus Silanus, [13]--on his refusal, he was put to death. His
mother was Julia Procilla, a lady of exemplary
chastity. Educated with tenderness in her bosom, [14] he passed his childhood
and youth in the attainment of every liberal art. He was preserved from the
allurements of vice, not only by a naturally good disposition, but by being
sent very early to pursue his studies at Massilia;
[15] a place where Grecian politeness and provincial frugality are happily
united. I remember he was used to relate, that in his early youth he should
have engaged with more ardor in philosophical speculation than was suitable to
a Roman and a senator, had not the prudence of his mother restrained the warmth
and vehemence of his disposition: for his lofty and upright spirit, inflamed by
the charms of glory and exalted reputation, led him to the pursuit with more
eagerness than discretion. Reason and riper years tempered his warmth; and from
the study of wisdom, he retained what is most difficult to
compass,--moderation.
Footnotes:
[1] Rutilius was
consul B.C. 104; and for his upright life and great strictness was banished
B.C. 92. Tacitus is the only writer who says he wrote his own life. Athenaeus mentions that he wrote a history of the affairs
of Rome in the Greek language. Scaurus was consul
B.C. 114, and again B.C. 106. He is the same Scaurus
whom Sallust mentions as having been bribed by Jugurtha.
As the banishment of Rutilius took place on the
accusation of Scaurus, it is possible that, when the
former wrote his life, the latter also wrote his, in order to defend himself
from charges advanced against him.
[2] Venia
opus fuit. This whole passage has greatly
perplexed the critics. The text is disputed, and it is not agreed why Tacitus
asks indulgence. Brotier, Dronke,
and others, say he asks indulgence for the inferiority of his style and manner
(incondita ac rudi
voce, c. 3), as compared with the distinguished authors (quisque celeberrimus)
of an earlier and better age. But there would have been no less
occasion to apologize for that, if the times he wrote of had not been so
hostile to virtue. Hertel, La Bletterie,
and many French critics, understand that he apologizes for writing the memoir
of his father-in-law so late (nunc), when he
was already dead (defuncti), instead of doing
it, as the great men of a former day did, while the subject of their memoirs
was yet alive; and he pleads, in justification of the delay, that he could not
have written it earlier without encountering the dangers of that cruel age (the
age of Domitian). This makes a very good sense. The only objection against it
is, that the language, opus fuit, seems rather
to imply that it was necessary to justify himself for writing it at all, by
citing the examples of former distinguished writers of biography, as he had
done in the foregoing introduction. But why would it have been unnecessary to
apologize for writing the life of Agricola, if the times in which he lived had
not been so unfriendly to virtue? Because then Agricola would have had
opportunity to achieve victories and honors, which would have demanded narration,
but for which the jealousy and cruelty of Domitian now gave no scope. This is
the explanation of Roth; and he supports it by reference to the fact, that the
achievements of Agricola in the conquest of Britain, though doubtless just as
Tacitus has described them, yet occupy so small a space in general history,
that they are not even mentioned by any ancient historian except Dio Cassius; and he mentions them chiefly out of regard to
the discovery made by Agricola, for the first time, that Britain was an island
(Vid. R. Exc. 1.) This explanation answers all the demands of grammar and
logic; but as a matter of taste and feeling, I cannot receive it. Such an apology for the unworthiness of his subject at the
commencement of the biography, ill accords with the tone of dignified
confidence which pervades the memoir. The best commentary I have seen on
the passage is that of Walther; and it would not, perhaps, be giving more space
to so mooted a question than the scholar requires, to extract it entire: --
"Venia," he says, "is here
nothing else than what we, in the language of modesty, call an apology, and has
respect to the very justification he has just offered in the foregoing
exordium. For Tacitus there appeals to the usage, not of remote antiquity only,
but of later times also, to justify his design of writing the biography of a
distinguished man. There would have been no need of such an apology in other
times. In other times, dispensing with all preamble, he would have begun, as in
c. 4, 'Cnaeus Julius Agricola,' &c., assured that
no one would question the propriety of his course. But now, after a long and
servile silence, when one begins again 'facta moresque posteris tradere,' when he utters the first word where speech and
almost memory (c. 2) had so long been lost, when he stands forth as the first
vindicator of condemned virtue, he seems to venture on something so new, so
strange, so bold, that it may well require apology." In commenting upon cursaturus--tempora,
Walther adds: "If there is any boldness in the author's use of words here,
that very fact suits the connection, that by the complexion of his language
even, he might paint the audacity 'cursandi tam saeva et infesta virtutibus tempora' -- of running
over (as in a race, for such is Walther's interpretation of cursandi)
times so cruel and so hostile to virtue. Not that those times could excite in
Tacitus any real personal fear, for they were past, and he could now think what
he pleased, and speak what he thought (Hist. i. 1).
Still he shudders at the recollection of those cruelties; and he treads with
trembling footstep, as it were, even the path lately obstructed by them. He
looks about him to see whether, even now, he may safely utter his voice, and he
timidly asks pardon for venturing to break the reigning silence." -- Tyler.
[3] A passage in Dio
excellently illustrates the fact here referred to: "He (Domitian) put to
death Rusticus Arulenus,
because he studied philosophy, and had given Thrasea
the appellation of holy; and Herennius Senecio, because, although he lived many years after
serving the office of quaestor, he solicited no other
post, and because he had written the Life of Helvidius
Priscus." (lxvii. p. 765.)
With less accuracy, Suetonius, in his Life of Domitian (s. 10), says: "He
put to death Junius Rusticus,
because he had published the panegyrics of Paetus Thrasea and Helvidius Priscus, and had styled them most holy persons; and on this
occasion he expelled all the philosophers from the city, and from. Italy."
Arulenus Rusticus was a
Stoic; on which account he was contumeliously called by M. Regulus
"the ape of the Stoics, marked with the Vitellian
scar." (Pliny, Epist. i. 5.)
Thrasea, who killed Nero, is particularly recorded in
the Annals, book xvi.
[4] The expulsion of the philosophers, mentioned
in the passage above quoted from Suetonius.
[5] This truly happy period began when, after
the death of Domitian, and the recision of his acts,
the imperial authority devolved on Nerva, whose
virtues were emulated by the successive emperors, Trajan, Hadrian, and both the
Antonines.
[6] Securitas publica,
"the public security," was a current expression and wish, and was
frequently inscribed on medals.
[7] The term of Domitian's reign.
[8] It appears that at this time Tacitus
proposed to write not only the books of his History and Annals, which contain
the "memorial of past servitude," but an account of the "present
blessings" exemplified in the occurrences under Nerva
and Trajan.
[9] There were two Roman colonies of this
name; one in Umbria, supposed to be the place now called Friuli; the other in Narbonnensian Gaul, the modern name of which is Frejus. This last was probably the birth-place of Agricola.
[10] Of the procurators who were sent to the
provinces, some had the charge of the public revenue; others, not only of that,
but of the private revenue of the emperor. These were the imperial procurators.
All the offices relative to the finances were in the possession of the Roman
knights; of whom the imperial procurators were accounted noble. Hence the equestrian
nobility of which Tacitus speaks. In some of the lesser provinces, the
procurators had the civil jurisdiction, as well at the administration of the
revenue. This was the case in Judaea.
[11] Seneca bears a very honorable testimony
to this person, "If," says he, "we have occasion for an example
of a great mind, let us cite that of Julius Graecinus,
an excellent person, whom Caius Caesar put to death on this account alone, that
he was a better man than could be suffered under a tyrant." (De Benef. ii. 21.) His books
concerning Vineyards are commended by Columella and
Pliny.
[12] Caligula.
[13] Marcus Silanus
was the father of Claudia, the first wife of Caius. According to the historians
of that period, Caius was jealous of him, and took every opportunity of
mortifying him. Tacitus (Hist. iv. 48) mentions that the emperor deprived him
of the military command of the troops in Africa in an insulting manner. Dion
(lix.) states, that when, from his age and rank, Silanus
was usually asked his opinion first in the senate, the emperor found a pretext
for preventing this respect; being paid to MS worth. Suetonius (iv. 23) records
that the emperor one day put to sea in a hasty manner, and commanded Silanus to follow him. This, from fear of illness, he
declined to do; upon which the emperor, alleging that he stayed on shore in
order to get possession of the city in case any accident befell himself,
compelled him to cut his own throat. It would seem, from the present passage of
Tacitus, that there were some legal forms taken in the case of Silanus, and that Julius Graecinus
was ordered to be the accuser; and that that noble-minded man, refusing to take
part in proceedings so cruel and iniquitous, was himself put to death.
[14] Of the part the Roman matrons took in the
education of youth, Tacitus has given an elegant and interesting account, in
his Dialogue concerning Oratory, c. 28.