005 - Trials and Tribunlations

Hello, and welcome to the History of Rome. Last week, we discussed the transitional year of 509 BC, when Rome went from being a typical Italian kingdom to an atypical Italian republic. Though the actual workings of the republic were not as democratic as they appeared on the surface, the fact remained that the monarchy had been abolished and annual elections now determined leadership. The first years after the change would prove difficult for the new government, for it faced both internal dissension and external invasion. Those years would see the final defeat of the Tarquins, the re-subduing of Latium, and finally the extension of political rights to the plebes with the creation of the office of tribune, the plebeian answer to the patrician consulship.

After his Viet army was defeated, the ex-king Tarquin next took refuge in the Etruscan city of Colosseum under the protection of its king, Lars Porcenta. Tarquin begged Porcenta to attack the Romans, repeating his line about the threat democracy posed to royalty everywhere, and the necessity of returning a king to the throne. Porcenta, like the Viets, no doubt took this argument under advisement, but when he agreed to make war with the Romans, he did so ultimately for his own reasons.

There are two accounts of what happened next. Either Porcenta invaded and was successfully repulsed, or he invaded and captured the city. The former is alleged by Roman folktales, the latter is supported by modern historical analysis.

According to the legendary tradition, Porcenta, in defense of his fellow Etruscan king Tarquin, marched south and was met by the Roman forces at the Tiber. The Romans, seeing the size of the Etruscan army, fled back across the river, leaving the bridge, and therefore the city, unguarded. A single Roman soldier named Horatius, realizing he could not prevent the army's flight, ordered men to set fire to the bridge in order to prevent the Etruscans from crossing and sacking the city. To buy time, he stood alone on the far side of the bridge and challenged the whole of Porcenta's army to combat. While the dumbstruck Etruscans tried to figure out what they should do with this crazy, brave, but clearly suicidal soldier, the other Romans set fire to the wooden bridge. The Etruscans were finally snapped out of their stupor when the burning bridge collapsed into the river and attacked, but Horatius jumped in the river and swam unscathed to the other side, saving the city and enrolling himself in the pantheon of great Roman heroes.

Porcenta was forced to initiate a siege, which proved no more effective than his initial assault, again due to the bravery of a single Roman citizen. This time it was Mucius Scavola, who proved his valor and secured ultimate victory for Rome. The city was suffering under Porcenta's siege and showed no signs of being able to fight it off. Mucius, taking matters into his own hand, crossed over to the Etruscan camp. He made his way to Porcenta's headquarters and waited for an opportunity to strike. When Porcenta's entourage emerged, Mucius attempted to assassinate the king, but, unsure of who his target was, mistakenly attacked one of the king's secretaries. Mucius was seized and dragged before the shaken king.

What happened next would be the stuff of Roman legend and a moral story to inspire generation upon generation of future citizens. Mucius told the king that the Romans had declared war not on the men of Colusium but upon Porcenta personally and that he was merely the first in a long line of assassins who would not stop until the king was dead. The king, unnerved by this idea, ordered Mucius burned alive and found himself only further unnerved by what Mucius did next. The Roman stuck his right hand into the fire and, without flinching, allowed it to burn. He declared that such was the regard Roman men held for their bodies and that the king should remember what lay in store for him. Porcenta was, to say the least, impressed and very freaked out. He allowed Mucius to go free, commending the man for his bravery. And not wishing to live his life under a death sentence from a bunch of psychotic patriot assassins, he made peace with Rome and lifted the siege, never having taken the city.

This was the official legend. Other non-Roman sources tell a different, more plausible story. In this version Porcenta did indeed take Rome in the turbulent years after the founding of the Republic and set up a puppet government. The outcome seems reasonable in that the Etruscans of Colusium would have been much stronger and far better equipped than the Romans were at this point, and resistance would have been futile at best.

The reason Porcenta, who is a confirmed historical figure, invaded Rome is a further divide between fact and legend. The melodrama of Tarquin's plea for Etruscan solidarity is pure fiction, as is the decisiveness of individual Roman bravery. Population upheaval in Italy around 500 BC had resulted in an estrangement between Etruria and their Greek trading partners in the south. Specifically, Etruscan trade routes were disrupted by the Volscians, a central Italian hill tribe who settled the plains between Etruria and Magna Graecia, south of Rome. Porcenta's conquest of the Romans was just a step in the greater project of maintaining the safety of the southern trade routes from attack.

Disabusing the notion that the war had been waged on Tarquin's behalf, Porcenta left his son in charge of matters in Latium after defeating Rome. His son though was defeated by an army of allied Latins and driven back north, re-securing independence for Rome as an unintended by-product. The Latin communities emerged strong from the encounter and Rome humbled, setting up a major confrontation for control of central Italy that would ultimately see Rome re-emerge as the dominant force in Latium for another 150 years.

The Latins had chafed under Roman rule during the reign of the Tarquins and took the opportunity presented by Rome's weakened position to attempt a redrawing of the political landscape. Disorganized by Porcenta's invasion and a lack of internal political unity, Rome seemed easy pickings for the emboldened Latins. But they underestimated Rome's will, a common mistake made by enemies of the empire for years to come. An alliance of Latin communities broke from the Romans and forced the issue into an armed conflict, which they thought would see them master Rome, but instead it led them right back under the yoke.

A decisive battle was fought near Lake Regulus, southeast of Rome, and though the details of the fight are unimportant, the battle of Lake Regulus is important for two reasons. First, as I mentioned, it ended Latin resistance to Rome for another 150 years, until, embroiled in a long war with the Samnites, Rome was again seen as vulnerable enough to resist. Second, it marked the first time that a dictator led a Roman army in battle.

The office of dictator was a curious instrument to find within the constitution of a republic, but the Romans felt that extraordinary emergencies called for extraordinary solutions, and dictators were appointed periodically over the years when such emergencies arose. Basically, a dictator was appointed when all the red tape needed to be cut through and one single man needed to take decisive action now, without complaint or appeal or challenge. According to law, a dictator could be appointed for one six-month term, at the end of which he would resign and power would revert back to the consuls. At the beginning of his term, the dictator appointed a vice dictator, called his master of horse, who was accountable to no one but the dictator himself.

The Romans were sufficiently distressed by the hostility of the Latins that they used their extraordinary solution for the first time to lead an army against a foreign threat. And technically the first dictator ever appointed had been a man named Titus Flartius, who had served briefly in that position two years before to quell internal riots, but beyond trivia the event is hardly worth mentioning. The appointment of Eleus Postumius, however, was a watershed moment. Flartius' appointment had been a ploy used by the patricians to put the fear of God back into the plebs, which of course it did, but there was never any question of actually instilling him with dictatorial powers for any period of time. Postumius, however, was given the keys to the city and told to do whatever was necessary to defeat the Latins, essentially that he was now a law unto himself.

Postumius did indeed lead the army to victory over the Latins, and then, in a remarkable display of constitutional loyalty, stepped down from the heady heights of absolute dictatorship and restored the consuls to their rightful positions. The remarkable giving up of power demonstrates both Postumius' personal honor and the extent to which Rome as a whole probably would have cried out for his murder if he had considered remaining in power. The monarchy really was dead, and though dictators would be appointed off and on for the next four hundred and fifty years, it was not until Julius Caesar that a dictator did not ultimately resign of his own free will.

The Latins reconquered and the dictatorship passed, Rome found itself at peace, and as a general rule, whenever Rome found itself at peace abroad, it immediately found itself divided at home. The question of plebeian rights, never satisfactorily settled, now reared its head once again. The plebes were not to be put off this time. No amount of patrician chicanery and backroom dealing would break their solidarity. Only rights guaranteed by law would satisfy them now.

The plebes would ultimately win political concessions from the patricians, though it took the first recorded strike in history to do so. Trouble arose over the matter of debt bonding. In Roman law at the time, if a debtor could not pay his creditor, then he became a bonded servant to the creditor until the debt was repaid. The system of indentured servitude essentially made permanent slaves of the debtors because, while servants to the creditors, they were unable to earn any money to pay off their debts. Many of the soldiers who fought in the recent war against the Latins found themselves bonded in this way. The practice in this case was especially egregious because the debts were incurred while the men were off fighting in patriotic defense of the city.

The plebes agitated for debt relief, but were rebuffed by the patricians, whose attitude was basically, you take on the debt, you pay the price. Offended by this high-handed treatment, the plebes were on the verge of full-blown revolt when the city suddenly found itself under attack from all sides. The Sabines, Volscians, and Aquians all began making forays into Roman territory and the senate called for armies to be raised. The plebes sensed an opportunity and when the consuls began calling names for enlistment not one of them made a move.

The senate was basically beside itself with this mass act of treason and immediately appointed a dictator to smash the resistance. But in an amazing display of moderation and wisdom, they appointed the brother of Publius Publicola, Manlius Valerius, whom the plebes loved, to the office. Valerius begged the plebes to do their duty and enlist, promising that once hostilities were concluded the issue of debt relief would be addressed straight away. Swayed by Valerius, they relented and legions were formed. In due course all three foreign threats were put down and the legions returned to Rome.

Back in the city, however, Valerius was unable to fulfill his promise. The patrician senators blocked his attempts at debt relief and Valerius resigned his office laying at the senate's feet all domestic turmoil that would ensue as a result of their decision. The disbanded legionaries were outraged at the betrayal and took an extraordinary step that would become known to history as the secession of the plebes. The soldiers marched en masse to the sacred mount, a hill three miles from Rome, and set up a fortified camp, refusing to return to the city until their demands were met.

The population of the city flew into a panic. The remaining plebes feared retaliatory violence from the patricians and conversely the patricians feared runaway mob violence without the army around to maintain order. And what they both feared the most was external invasion. If word got out that Rome's army had abandoned her, every two-bit tribe in the neighborhood would come knocking on the city gates and Rome would be at their mercy. So the senate relented and sent an envoy to the plebe camp to broker a deal.

The settlement did not address the debt question directly, rather a new office was created to shield the plebes from future patrician tyranny, the tribunate. The dangerous precedent set by the strike was pointed out to the plebes by the patrician envoy who compared the republic to a body. It is true, he told them, the hands and feet and mouth could join forces and stop working for the lazy stomach who sat there greedily receiving all the food the other parts worked for. But if they were to do so the entire body would soon die of starvation, for the stomach pumped energy back out into the limbs. The plebes would be granted more rights to end the secession, the envoy said, but they must not think, in the future, that starving the stomach was in their enlightened best interest. The plebes took some note of this, but were so absorbed with their success that it is doubtful the lesson fully sank in.

The role of tribune was defensive in nature. Two plebeian men would be elected each year to act as a counterweight to the consuls. Initially the power of the tribunes was modestly held to the right to free any man from patrician imprisonment, though in the future they would gain the right to veto, literally, I forbid, any law passed by the consuls or the senate at a word. The tribunes were also granted sancro sanctity, or the right to be free from harm. The plebes took a solemn oath to kill any man who attempted to assault a tribune, and more than once that oath was fulfilled.

The tribunate would become a flashpoint for Roman politics for the remainder of the republic. The eventual power to veto led to a number of showdowns with the patricians, both sides bloodying themselves in their attempts to control state policy. The power of the office would peak with the Gracchi brothers around 125 BC and fall into obsolescence with the ascension of the Caesars. But for the bulk of the republican period it was an important and powerful office.

The tribunes would be elected by a new assembly called the Comita Tributa, which would be made up of the now thirty-five tribes of Rome. Marriage in the assembly was not based on a property assessment as it was with the centuriata, and so the Comita Tributa was as democratic a form as Rome would ever see.

The secession of the plebes occurred in 494 BC, about fifteen years after the birth of the republic. Though domestic combustion and foreign invasion were constant threats, the republic had passed through its infancy and emerged as an adolescent power ready for fresh challenges. Any threat posed by the ex-king Tarquin was gone and monarchy was now firmly in the rear-view mirror. The attempted revolt by the Latin communities had been suppressed by a republican army and Rome managed to maintain control of Latium just as it had while a monarchy. The patricians and plebes were settled in an alliance, uneasy though it may have been, and the population was more or less at peace with itself.

Next week we will cover the creation of the final piece of the republican puzzle, the Law of the Twelve Tables, as well as discuss the rising threat posed by the Volscians which caused the Romans to make their first concerted forays into the eastern hills where they would fight the wars that would ultimately win them control of all Italy.