016 - The Third Samnite War

Hello, and welcome to the History of Rome. As the 300s gave way to the 200s BC, Rome found itself the de facto master of Italy. It was not yet official, but for all intents and purposes, Italy belonged to Rome. Certainly the Romans saw themselves as being in charge, and their actions in the immediate aftermath of the long Second Samnite War demonstrated this. But in the volatile ancient world, a beaten enemy one year was often victorious the next, so though Rome was surrounded by beaten enemies, next year was just around the corner.

Rome's attitude towards the fiercely independent Samnites and once regal Etruscans led to smoldering resentment across Rome's new territory, which, I suppose, was the source of their resentment, Rome considering Etruria and Samnium to be newly conquered territory ripe for settlement and colonization, while the natives saw their treaties with Rome as being between equals. Unequal terms, yes, but between equals. When Rome started planting colonies in Samnium and parading the legions through Etruria, a fresh talk of resistance and war began again. The Samnites in particular understood that Rome was now driven by visions of a peninsula-wide empire, and peace meant little more than death by population migration and displacement rather than by a sword to the head. They were proud of their culture and language and way of life, and saw all too well what the future held for a passive Samnite nation, a mere footnote in Roman history books. At least if they fought, they could be the subjects of one more podcast episode.

In 298 BC, the Samnites began to resist Roman incursions into their land. Rome sent envoys to Samnium to demand that the Treaty of Peace be honored, but the Samnites were done with the treaty, and war was declared once again. Two consular armies, two armies under the command of a consul, so four total legions, were sent into Samnium in 297 BC. The Samnites were unprepared for this onslaught, and the army they had raised did its level best to stay away from the Romans, not wanting to risk a full-scale battle that they would surely lose. So the consuls, Marcus Valerius, no longer the intemperate young master of horse, but by now an old man and widely considered to be the most able of all the Roman generals, and Publius Decius, son of the legendary Decius, who won the grass crown and sacrificed himself in battle, spent the year ransacking the countryside.

Eventually the Samnite army, still unwilling to fight in the open, left Samnium altogether and made its way to Etruria. They knew they could never defeat the Romans alone, they needed help. The next year, Appius Claudius, he of the Appian Way, was elected consul again. The people wanted to return Marcus Valerius as consul for the second year in a row, but he begged off, citing the mandatory decade wait before holding office again, scolding the Romans for attempting to abandon the rule of law just because they were faced with an emergency. Chastened, the electorate re-voted and elected instead a Publian named Lucius Volumnius.

When the Etruscans began to rise up as well, the two new consuls drew lots to determine their spheres of command. Volumnius was assigned Samnium, while Claudius drew Etruria. When Volumnius arrived in Samnium, he found that its army remained in semi-exile. He marched around, capturing towns, raiding for plunder, generally enriching himself and his men with ease. But he knew that there was no threat to Rome to be found amongst the women and children and old men of Samnium. Rome's enemies were in Etruria, he thought, what in the world am I doing here?

At this point, a discrepancy in the record emerges. According to Volumnius, Claudius sent him a distressed letter confirming his fears, stating that the Etruscans and Samnite armies had joined forces, and Volumnius must come to Etruria at once to help. Volumnius, seeing no danger in leaving Samnium, marched his legions north to Etruria to answer Claudius' call for help. When he arrived, however, Claudius denied having ever written such a letter. Claudius said that he was well in command of the situation, and did not need Volumnius around trying to horn in on his glory. It was not explicit, but the implication was that the patrician Claudius did not need the assistance of a mere plebeian.

Volumnius, offended by the reaction to what he thought was requested aid, said, fine, have it your way, and wheel his army around. But the officers and men of Claudius' army blocked his path. Despite the vain assertions of their commander, they told Volumnius that the situation in Etruria was dire, and the presence of both armies was necessary for victory. Volumnius decided to put it to a vote of the legions, who, by loud acclaim, demanded he stay. Claudius was nonplussed, but was a savvy enough politician not to fly in the face of resounding popular opinion, and agreed to fight with Volumnius by his side.

The united legions then rushed out to find the mixed Etruscan and Samnite army. The resulting battle was an ill-organized and sloppy affair on both sides. The general of the Samnites wasn't even present, so the Samnites were completely disorganized in their deployment, and the Roman legions, with their commanders at odds with one another and hasty in their search for a fight, just charged into the fray without any plan at all. But in spite of this, the Romans prevailed, scattering the Etruscans and leaving the Samnite army in disarray.

However, this victory did not end the danger. The next year, 295, the Samnite army regrouped and the Etruscan communities committed fresh troops to the struggle. In addition, the Umbrians, a hill tribe from the northern Apennines, officially joined the coalition against the Romans, and, in a surprise development, Gallic tribes that had settled in the Po Valley allowed their services to be bought by the rich Etruscans, swelling the size and strength of the army Rome would soon face. The armies of these four races gathered near Colusium in northern Etruria to plan their next move.

In Rome, consular elections were held, and despite his renewed protests, Marcus Valerius was returned once again. This time he bowed to public pressure and agreed to serve. His only stipulation was that Publius Decius be made his colleague. The two had been partners in the consulship twice before and had served together as censors. There were obvious tactical disadvantages to having consuls at odds with one another, as Claudius and Volumnius had proven, and Marcus Valerius wanted to make sure that there was harmony at the top as Rome went off to challenge the largest and most dangerous enemy it had ever faced. The people agreed with this logic and returned Decius.

However, despite their previous excellent working relationship, things immediately got off on the wrong foot. The Senate wanted to assign Marcus Valerius to Etruria without the traditional drawing of lots. Decius protested, saying that he had no problem being sent to Samnium to lead the war on a quiet front, but he would not do so arbitrarily because Marcus Valerius, a patrician, was considered better suited for the greater danger that lay in Etruria. He demanded that lots be drawn and let the chips fall where they may. Marcus Valerius, for his part, exacerbated the situation by accepting command in Etruria and, in fact, claiming it as his right. If it had not been for his bold decision to enter the Cimmerian forest and secure the natives as allies of Rome, the legions would not have the supply routes needed to enable a major campaign in Etruria in the first place. He considered Etruria to be his country and wanted to finish the job he had started. A heated exchange of words followed, but in the end, precedent gave way to popular pressure and Marcus Valerius led his legions into Etruria without lots being drawn.

However, after the Senate began to read Marcus Valerius' reports of the massive army gathering and hearing Appius Claudius describe the desperate situation he had just left, they recalled Decius from Samnium and asked him to join Valerius in Etruria. Every enemy of Rome was gathered in the north, and the Romans absolutely, positively had to win the upcoming battle if they were to have any peace at all in the future. So Decius marched with his armies north, leaving a token force to watch over the non-combatant Samnites.

Marcus Valerius was a far more practical man than Claudius, and when he saw Decius approaching, he welcomed him with open arms. Glory could only be had in victory, and the size of the anti-Roman coalition army was drastically reducing the odds of victory. But joined together, the legions would be more than a match for this formidable enemy. The two armies met near Sentinam and set up camp across from one another on a plain.

Deserters from the Gallic camp brought the consuls word of the coalition's plan. They had decided that the Gauls and Samnites would fight Rome on the battlefield while the Etruscans and Umbrians overwhelmed the undermanned Roman camp. They hoped to catch the Romans without an exit strategy and crush them between the force of their four combined armies. But now knowing the plan, the consuls immediately took measures to prevent its implementation. In a classic display of indirect strategy, a contingent of legionaries was ordered out into the Etruscan countryside to attack and burn at will any house, community, town or field they encountered. This devastation could not be tolerated by the Etruscans, who broke camp and made off to protect their homes. Having now peeled off at least a fourth of the opposing forces and throwing a wrench in the coalition plan, the Romans immediately sought a battle, which the remaining Samnites, Umbrians and Gauls welcomed, abandoning their dual attack strategy for one all-out attack. They were confident of victory. Today would be the day they broke Rome and lifted its oppressive yoke from the back of Italy. That was the plan, anyway.

The Battle of Sentinam was the largest ever fought in Italy to that date. Both sides fielded armies upwards of 40,000 men, with allies and cavalry included. On the Roman side, Decius commanded the left flank against the Gauls, while Marcus Valerius took the right against the Samnites. Though united in purpose, they took very different approaches. Valerius felt that Rome's strength lay in its discipline and endurance, but the Gauls and Samnites started strong but faded down the stretch. He took a conservative approach, holding against Samnite rushes, but not pressing the advantage or taking risks. Once they tired, though, he planned on crushing them.

Decius, however, the junior partner, had no such patience. He wanted to meet strength with strength, and push back with everything he had against the Gauls. When they began to falter, Decius decided to win the battle early and decisively, but in his haste for glory, he sealed his own fate. He led a bold cavalry charge into the heart of the Gallic line, but, rather than breaking them, he found his own forces scattered and killed, and when the cavalry wheeled around to escape the Gallic attack, they charged headlong into the front lines of the Roman infantry, crushing under hoof many of their own men. The Roman left was in complete disarray, and began to panic and flee.

Decius, however, recognizing his folly, and here we are moving into romantic, vivid Roman storytelling, knew what he had to do. He called a priest and declared that as his father had sacrificed himself to ensure victory, so too would he, to atone for his folly. He anointed himself, and, wrapped in a ceremonial robe, followed his father into the underworld. Seeing their commander's sacrifice, the Roman left rallied and charged the Gauls.

On the right, Marcus Valerius' plan was about to come to fruition. He saw that the spears were thrown with a little less force, and a little more aimlessly. He ordered his cavalry and middle line around to the right and pressed the Samnite flank. When they turned, Valerius ordered his main line to charge ahead and take no prisoners. The Samnites could not long endure the duel front, and finally, after a full day's fighting, they broke and fled. The Gauls, along with the Umbrian forces, were now pinned between two armies, and, recognizing the fight was lost, followed the Samnites into the Etruscan countryside.

The Romans had faced a combined army of the four strongest tribes in Italy, and emerged victorious. The peninsula was now Rome's, and would remain so for the next 800 years. The war against the Samnites would carry on for another five years, but at Sentinem, the fate of Italy was sealed. A final clash between the Romans and Samnites was fought at Aquilonia in 293 BC, with the Romans completely dominating an enemy that had once been more than equal to Roman strength. The Samnites were beaten, finally and completely, and the five decades long struggle came to an end.

But though they could no longer muster the force necessary to resist Roman domination, Samnite resentment never died. Two hundred years later, the Samnites would be at the center of the Social War, an Italian revolt against Roman discrimination. In that war, they were the first to take the field, and the last to surrender. But that story is for another day.

Next week we will turn our attention south. The new Roman dream of an Italian empire was fast becoming a reality, and the only thing that stood in their way now was the Greek cities of Magna Graecia. The time had come for the independent city-states in the south to recognize a new master, though subduing the Greeks would be no easy task. They were as skilled at war as the Romans, and had the resources of Greece to support them in their struggle, and one general in particular, Pyrrhus of Epirus, a relative of Alexander the Great, to lead them. Greece was fresh off conquering half the world under Alexander, and was the premier civilization of its day. This would be the first in a series of clashes between the upstart Romans and the long-established Greeks that would mark the transition from Greek to Roman dominance in the Mediterranean.

Though when Pyrrhus climbed aboard his ship to sail for Italy, he knew none of this. He thought he was off to put down some barbaric rabble, and maybe get rich, but he had no idea what he was up against.