The Book of the Sword

CHAPTER XII.

Chapter 176,654 wordsPublic domain

THE SWORD IN ANCIENT ROME; THE LEGION AND THE GLADIATOR.

The _rôle_ played by pagan Rome on the stage of history was twofold—that of conqueror and that of regulator. In obeying man’s acquisitive instinct she was compelled to perfect her executive instrument, the fighter. To her we owe the words ‘arms’ and ‘army,’ ‘armour’ and ‘armoury.’[853] As _pugna_ derives from _pugnus_, the fist, so _arma_ and its congeners derive from _armus_, the arm: ‘antiqui humeros cum brachiis armos vocabant,’ says Festus. Well knowing that the ‘God of Battles’ favours superiority of weapons as much as, and in select cases more than, ‘big battalions,’ she ever chose the implements and instruments she found the best; and, following her own proverb, she never disdained to take a lesson in arms even from the conquered.

But Rome soon learnt that to make good soldiers she must begin by making good citizens. She insisted upon the civilising maxim ‘Cedant arma togæ,’ without, however, the invidious precedence which Sallust calls ‘those most offensive words of Cicero’

——Concedat laurea linguæ.

She subordinated the Captain to the Magistrate, and she proclaimed to both the absolute Reign of Law. The idea presented itself to the Greek mind in the shape of Fate, Anagké, Nemesis: Rome brought it down from the vague to the realistic, from the abstract to the concrete, from heaven to earth. Thus, while Greece taught mankind the novel lessons of ordered liberty, free thought, intellectual culture, and patriotic citizenship, Rome, by her reverence for Law, in whose sight all men were equal, preached the brotherhood of mankind. Hence Christendom ever has been, and is still, governed by a heathen code, by that Roman jurisprudence which flowed from the Twelve Tables, like the laws of Jewry from the Ten Commandments. Indeed the ‘Fecial College’ which pronounced upon the obligations of international war and peace, is an institution which might profitably be revived in the modern world.[854]

Rome was single-minded in her objective, conquest; and unlike the Greeks, from whom she borrowed, she was not diverted by art or literature. All her poets for a thousand years fit into one volume. All her art, indeed, can hardly be said to exist; history is silent concerning any save a few exceptional Roman architects. Varro laughs at the puppets and effigies of the gods. The triumph of Metellus (B.C. 146) introduced Art, but the Helleno-Roman artist contented himself with copies and with portrait-statues of the great. In the days of their highest luxury and refinement, the toga’d people were connoisseurs and purchasers who diffused instead of adding to knowledge. Others, as Virgil said, might give movement to marble and breath to bronze: the Art of the Roman was to rule the nations, to spare the subjected, and to debase the proud. ‘Fortia agere Romanum est.’

For the constitution of the Roman army we must consult the estimable Polybius,[855] its early historian, Livy, and the latest of the great authorities, Vegetius, in the days of Valentinian II. (A.D. 375–92); not forgetting Varro,[856] who treats of weapon changings.

Whilst the militia consisted of three bodies, the citizens, the allies, who were sworn, and the auxiliaries or mercenaries; the characteristic of Roman organisation was the Legion—that is, _legere_ (they chose). Emerging by slow degrees from the Phalanx or close column,[857] it learnt to prefer for battle the _acies instructa_, haye or line, and the _acies sinuata_, with wings; and it reserved for especial purposes the _agmen pilatum_ or close array, and the _agmen quadratum_ or hollow square.

The reason of the change is manifest. The Phalanx or oblong herse was irresistible during the compact advance. The wise Egyptian inventors made it perfect for the Nile Valley. But it lost virtue in woodlands and highlands; it was liable to be broken when changing front, and the long unwieldy spears which it required caused confusion on broken ground.

The Legion consisted, strictly speaking, of heavy-armed infantry—of Milites, from _Mil-es_, because reckoned by their thousands. They were preceded by the Velites, Ferentarii, or Rorarii, ‘light infantry,’ _éclaireurs_, who cleared the way for action; in the first century they were reinforced by the Accensi Velati.[858] Whilst the Auxiliaries fought with bows and arrows, and some, like the Etruscans, with the ‘funda’ or sling, the Veles carried two to seven light throw-spears (_hastæ velitariæ_) about three feet long in the shaft, with a nine-inch lozenge-shaped head of iron.[859] For close quarters he wore on his right side a Parazonium-dagger, and on the right a broad cut-and-thrust blade of moderate size. His defences were an apron of leather strips, studded with metal; and a Parma,[860] the small round shield, like the Cetra, some three feet in diameter.[861]

The Legion proper was a line or rather a triple line of Hastarii[862] or legionary spearmen. Livy[863] briefly describes the Acies, when it emerged from the Phalanx, as ‘drawn up into distinct companies, divided into centuries. Each company contained sixty soldiers,[864] two centurions, and one ensign or standard-bearer.[865] First in line stood the Hastati in fifteen companies with twenty Velites.[866] Behind them were the Principes with heavy shields and complete armour, also numbering fifteen companies. These thirty companies were called Antepilani, because there were fifteen others placed behind them with the standards; each of the latter consisted of three divisions, and the first division of each they called a Pilus. The first ensign was at the head of the third line proper, the Triarii. Behind them stood the Rorarii, whose ability was less by reason of their youth and inexperience; and, lastly, in the rear, came the Accensi, a body in which little confidence was reposed. The Hastati began the fight, and if unable to gain the day, passed to the rear through the ranks of the Principes. The latter now marched forwards to action, the Hastati following. Meanwhile the Triarii continued kneeling behind the Ensigns; the left legs extended to the front, the shields resting on the shoulders; the spear-points erect with butts firmly fixed in the ground, so that the line bristled as if inclosed by a rampart. If the Principes failed, “res ad Triarios rediit.” The Triarii, after receiving the Principes and Hastati into their intervals, closed files and fell upon the enemy in a compact body.[867] This was the most formidable attack, when the enemy, having pursued the vanquished, suddenly beheld a new line starting up.’

Thus far Livy. I am tempted by the subject of the Roman legionaries, those ‘massive hammers of the whole earth,’ to add, despite its triteness, a few details.

The Hastatus or spearman, a young light-armed soldier, preceded the colours; hence he was called Antesignanus. He wore for defence a plain or crested helmet which varied with his legion.[868] He had a bronze breast-plate thirty-two inches long, or a cuirass of thin metal plates defending the chest and forming shoulder-pieces. A kilt[869] of the same material protected his lower body; greaves or leggings (_ocreæ_) his legs, and the Scutum or shield his flank. This article (σκῦτος, leather, dog-skin?), a curved rectangular oblong, larger than the Parma, measured about four feet by two and a half feet; the framework was of wood, and the covering had a strong boss and metal platings. As his name denotes, the Hastatus was armed with the full-sized spear, and with a long or short ‘gladius’ or ‘ensis.’ The latter was carried on the right, as a rule; as will be seen, it greatly varied in size and shape. The soldier, when excited in battle, threw away his spear and drew his Sword; the Etruscans did the same.[870] The shield-umbo was also used in close combat to bear down the opponent.

The second line, which like the third followed the standards, was composed of the Principes or Proci, soldiers of mature age. The name seems to denote that originally they formed the front line, as the Greek Promachoi and our Grenadiers.[871] Lastly came the Triarii (third line men), a reserve, so called from their position—veterans of tried valour who were expected to retrieve the fortunes of the day. At first they were the only Pilani[872] (javelineers), as opposed to the two first lines (Antepilani). Their redoubtable weapon, which conquered so much of the old world, and which descended by inheritance to the Franks, was about six feet and three-quarters long, composed of an iron (two feet) with oval or pyramidal head, set by a broad tang in a wooden socketed shaft treble its length. The latter was round at the heel and squared about the shoulders, as we learn from Livy,[873] when describing the Phalarica or fire-missile. Both Principes and Triarii also carried Swords, the former at the right hip, the latter above it: as has before been noticed this is a most complicated subject. The bandsmen wore, like the Signa-bearers, a peculiar helmet; they consisted of tubicines (using the _tuba_, a long Etruscan trumpet), of cornicines (the _cornu_ being a writhed horn), and of buccinatores, blowing a short simple instrument. The Roman officers were armed like the men.

Under the term _utraque militia_ was included the legionary cavalry whose number varied little in proportion to the infantry. In Polybius’ day the ratio was two hundred to four thousand. This arm was clad in a complete suit of bronze less heavy than the Greeks and the Gallo-Greeks;[874] the buckler of ox-hide was round, oval, or polygonal. The horseman’s weapons were a Spear (_contus_), often accompanied by a javelin, a waist-dagger, and a Sword worn on the right; the latter, unlike ours, preserved the form of the infantry weapon. The Greek cavalry in the Roman service at the siege of Jerusalem, as we learn from Josephus, carried long Swords suspended to the right flank.

Lastly, the Legion was followed by its massive _tormenta_ (artillery): catapults (for darts) and _balistæ_ (for stones), escorted by the _vexillarii_ or oldest soldiers, under their own _vexillum_, and worked by the Sappers or _fabri_ (_lignarii_, &c.). The camp-followers (_calones_, _lixæ_) and the baggage (_impedimenta_) brought up the rear.

The Roman infantry was carefully drilled. Vegetius tells us that recruits were exercised with osier-bucklers and stakes double the weight of the normal Swords. There were also regular _champs de Mars_, ‘sham-fights’ with wooden Swords and with javelins whose points were sheathed in balls.

In the effeminate days of the Empire, shortly after Constantine, military discipline was relaxed, and the decay of the Legion became complete. Instead of shouldering their packs the men carried them in carts. The Hasta was given up, and the helmet and the cuirass were dispensed with as too heavy. Vegetius[875] had reason to ascribe the defeat of the Legion by the Goths to the want of its old defensive armour.

It was not only when campaigning that the Romans studied the use of arms. In the Campus Martius and the other seven ‘parks’ of the Capital, crowds of young men practised riding, swording, and athletics. Another mighty _Salle d’Armes_ was the Amphitheatre. To a purely military nation, gladiatorism had great merits. ‘C’estoit, à la verité,’ says Montaigne,[876] ‘un merveilleux exemple, et de tresgrand fruict pour l’institution du peuple, de veoir touts les jours en sa presence cent, deux cents, voire mille couples d’hommes, armez les uns contre les aultres, se hacher en pieces, avecques une si extreme fermeté de courage, qu’on ne leur voit lascher une parole de foiblesse ou commiseration, jamais tourner le dos, ny faire seulement un mouvement lasche pour gauchir au coup de leur adversaire, ains tendre le col à son espee, et se presenter au coup.’

It appears to me that the nineteenth century wastes much fine sentiment upon the ‘detestable savagery of the Lanista,’[877] and upon the wretches

Butchered to make a Roman holiday.

The _ludus gladiatorius_[878] began as a humane institution amongst the Etruscans, who, instead of slaughtering, upon the funeral pyre, slaves and war-captives, like Achilles and Pyrrhus, allowed them to fight for their lives. The _munus_ at Rome, moreover, was originally confined to public funerals, and it was an abuse which allowed it at private interments, at entertainments, and at holiday festivals in general.

According to Livy[879] ‘when Scipio exhibited gladiators at Carthage’ (B.C. 546) ‘they were not slaves or men who sold their blood, the usual stuff of the Lanista’s school.’[880] The service was voluntary and gratuitous. Combatants were often sent by petty princes to show the courage of their people; others came forward in compliment to the General, and some decided their disputes by the Sword. Amongst persons of distinction were Corbis and Orsua, cousins-german, who determined to fight out their claims to the city called Ibes, and they ‘exhibited to the army a most interesting spectacle,’ the elder swordsman easily mastering the artless attacks of the younger.

[Heading: _THE ROMAN GLADIATOR._]

Even when the gladiators at Rome were condemned criminals and captives whose lives were forfeited by the old laws of war, some humanity remained. Although the malefactors doomed _ad gladium_ were to be slain within the year, those sent only _ad ludum_ might obtain their discharge within three years. And under the Empire to join the shows became ‘fashionable:’ Severus was compelled to forbid freeborn citizens, knights, senators, and even women from entering the arena.

The life of the gladiator was one to make the ‘honest poor’ curse their lot. He was trained in the best climates, and fed with the most succulent food (_sagina gladiatoria_): hence Cicero[881] calls rude health and good condition ‘gladiatoria totius corporis firmitas.’ He became one of a _familia_ or brotherhood after taking the oath, which Montaigne gives from Petronius (117):—‘Nous jurons de nous laisser enchainer, brusler, battre et tuer de glaive, et de souffrir tout ce que les gladiateurs légitimes souffrent de leur maîtres, engageant très-religieusement le corps et l’âme à son service.’ In other words, he had plenty of society and he was disciplined. Under the Lanista he practised daily at the schools, and the _ludus matutinus_ near the Cœliolus or little Cœlian Hill was frequented by all classes.[882] Here he ‘fought the air’ (ἀέρα δέρειν), a Σκιαμαχία like our fighting the sack; he contended with the _rudis_ (rod or wooden Sword); he cut at the Palus, the ‘post-practice’ of German universities and modern regiments, and he strengthened back and shoulders with the Halteres (dumb-bells, _dombelles_), and with other artifices. Thus a wound, fatal to a man out of training, would only disable one in such splendid condition.[883] Pliny,[884] indeed, makes light of his danger. Speaking of C. Curio’s two pivot-theatres, which during representations could be wheeled inwards or outwards, this model grumbler declares: ‘The safety of the gladiators was almost less compromised than that of the Roman people, which allowed itself to be thus whirled round from side to side.’

If worsted in combat and sentenced to receive the Sword (_ferrum recipere_), the gladiator, prepared for his fate, met it with manly firmness. When the down-turned thumbs granted mercy, the vanquished got his _missio_ or discharge for the day. Augustus humanely abolished the barbarity of shows _sine missione_, where no quarter was given. The victor was presented with palms, whence _plurimarum palmarum gladiator_; and with cash, which doubtless commended him to the other sex. We read of old gladiators, showing that the career was not necessarily fatal. These veterans, and sometimes novices who had fought only in a few _munera_, were, at the request of the people, discharged the service by the Editor or Exhibitor of the games. They were then presented with a Rudis (_rude donati_), and, as Rudiarii lived happily ever afterwards.

We have also notices of distinguished gladiators. Diogenes Laertius[885] does not disdain to mention as the fourth Epicurus, ‘lastly, a gladiator.’ Spartacus, Crixus, and Œnomaus broke out of Lentulus’ fencing-school, escaped from Capua, and made a camp at Vesuvius; they used the Swords made out of iron plundered in the slave-houses to such effect that Athenæus declares, ‘If Spartacus had not died in battle, he would have caused no ordinary trouble to our countrymen, as Eunus did in Sicily.’[886]

Gladiatorial shows were first exhibited (B.C. 246) in the Forum Boarium by Marcus and D. Brutus at their father’s funeral, during the Saturnalia (our Christmas) and the Minerva feasts.[887] They were abolished by Constantine ‘the Great’ (A.D. 306–33), but the edict seemed to give them fresh life; Frank prisoners were slaughtered by the hundred in the arena of Trèves. They were finally suppressed (A.D. 404) by Honorius, who made a martyr of the monk Telemachus. I need hardly relate how this meddling ecclesiastic rushed into the amphitheatre to separate the combatants, and was incontinently stoned by ‘the house.’

But the time had come for abolishing these glorious _spectacula_; as mostly happens, long custom and familiarity had merged the use into the abuse, and caused Lactantius to exclaim ‘tollenda est nobis!’ The misuse had begun under Divus Cæsar, who collected so many gladiators for the fights that his enemies became alarmed, and restricted the number. Caligula, the ‘Bootling,’ was devoted to the sport, and made some gladiators captains of his German guards. He deprived the ‘Mirmillones’[888] of certain weapons. One Columbus coming off victorious in a fight, but slightly hurt, he caused the wound to be infused with poison, which got the name of Columbinum. The nervous Claudius (‘Caldius’) assisted at the _spectacula_ ‘muffled up in a pallium, a new fashion!’ Having spared, at the intercession of his four sons, a conquered prize-fighter, he sent a billet round the house reminding the spectators how much it behoved them to get children, since these could procure favour and security for a gladiator. In later years he became savage. If a combatant chanced to fall, especially one of the Retiarii, he ordered him to be butchered that he might enjoy the look of the face in the agonies of death. Two combatants happening to kill each other, he ordered some little knives to be made of their Swords. He also delighted in seeing Bestiarii, and he made the sport most brutal and sanguinary. Nero, during his ‘golden quinquennium,’ ordered that no gladiators, even condemned criminals, should be slain; and he persuaded four hundred senators and six hundred knights, some of unbroken fortunes and unblemished fame, to fight in the arena. He espoused the cause of the Thraces or Parmularians, and often joined in the popular demonstrations in favour of the Prasine or ‘green faction,’ without, however, compromising his dignity or doing injustice. In his later and crueller days,[889] hearing the master of a family of gladiators say that a Thrax was a match for a Mirmillo, but not so for the exhibitor of the games, he had him dragged from the benches into the arena and exposed to the dogs, with this label, ‘A Parmularian guilty of speaking blasphemy.’ And, as ‘Mero’ scandalised the world by his passion for singing and harping, so Commodus degraded himself by amateur gladiatorship. He was cunning of fence, but in the most cowardly way. A powerful man and a practised gymnast, he wore impenetrable armour and fought with a heavy Sword, whereas his antagonists were allowed only blades of tin and lead. Even the humane Trajan[890] exhibited after his victories some ten thousand Dacian ‘monomachists.’ The militarism of the Romans, however, made them familiar with butchery. Thus Tacitus[891] says: ‘The Germans gratified us with the spectacle of a battle in which above sixty thousand men were slain.’ This ‘gladiatorial show’ took place near the canal of Drusus, where the Roman guard on the Rhine commanded a view of the other shore.

The gladiators used both forms of Swords, the straight two-edged blade and the curved.[892] The Dimacheri carried, as the name denotes, two weapons: these may have been either two Swords of the same size, as carried by the Japanese,[893] or possibly Sword and dagger, a practice long preserved on the shores of the Mediterranean. The same may be said of the _duos gladios_ borne by the Gaul whom Torquatus slew. The Hoplomachi, armed _cap-a-pie_, must also have been Swordsmen. The Mirmillo[894] was weaponed with a curved blade, cutting inside (‘gladio incurvo et falcato’): in Montfaucon, he carries a long convex shield and a Sica or short-Sword.[895] Opposed to the Mirmillo was the Retiarius, armed with net and trident: Cortez found net-soldiers in Mexico, as was natural to fishermen. Winckelmann shows a fight between the two: Retiarius has netted his fish and proceeds to use the _fuscina_ or _tridens_, while a toga’d Lanista, rod in hand, stands behind him and points out where to strike.

The Samnites were distinguished by the oblong tribal _scutum_[896] and the leaf-shaped Greek Sword: so says the Comte de Caylus; but on the monument erected by Caracalla to Bato, the weapon is straight up and down. The Thræces or Threces (Thracians proper)[897] had round shields, and instead of the huge Swords noted by Livy, the short knife called by Juvenal _falx supina_.[898] The Thracian’s Sword closely resembles that used in the Isle of Cos. Winckelmann[899] gives a combat between two Thracians, each backed up by his Lanista. We find also a naked Gladiator, with Sword and shield, fighting another in breast-belt, apron (_subligaculum_), and boots, with a shield and a three-thonged _flagellum_ or scourge.

The Gladiators were an order distinct from the Bestiarii (θηριομάχοι) who fought against wild beasts; these were exhibited in the Forum, those in the Circus. Again, Bestiarii, who can boast that St. Paul once belonged to them, must not be confounded with the criminals thrown _ad leones_, without means of defence, like Mentor, Androclus, and early Christian communists.[900] The beast-fighters had their _scholæ bestiarum_ or _bestiariorum_ where they practised weapons, and they received _auctoramentum_ or pay. The arms were various: mostly they are shown with a Sword in one hand, a veil in the other, and the left leg protected by greaves. Under Divus Cæsar criminals for the first time encountered wild beasts with silver weapons. The modern survival is the Spanish bull-fight. Gladiatorism lasted in England after a fashion till the days of Addison; amongst professional Swordsmen, the highest surviving name is that of

——the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains The monarch acknowledged of Mary’bone plains.[901]

To conclude this discursus on gladiatorism. Most popular sports are cruel, but we must not confound, as is often done, cruelty with brutality. The former may accompany greatness of intellect, the latter is the characteristic of debasement. Every nation is disposed to ‘fie-fie’ its neighbour’s favourite diversion. The English fox-hunter and pigeon-shooter[902] are severe upon bull-fighting and cock-fighting—the classical and Oriental pastime preserved in Spain and in Spanish South America.[903] The boxer, who imitates, at a humble distance, the Cestus-play of the Greeks and Romans, looks scandalised at _la boxe Française_, with its garnishing of _savate_; and at the Brazilian _capoeira_, who butts with his woolly head. And so _vice versâ_. Absence or presence of fair play should, methinks, condemn or justify all the various forms of sport which are not mere or pure barbarities. And, applying this test, we shall not harsh judge the gladiatorial games of Rome.

I now proceed to describe the Sword amongst the Romans, a simpler subject than in Greece.

As the so-termed founding of Rome took place during the early Iron Age of Southern Europe, it is probable that the citizens, like their predecessors the Etruscans, originally made their blades of copper and bronze, the leaf-shape being borrowed from the Greeks, as we see it retained by the gladiators. The material would last into the Age of Steel, but even in her early years Rome must have preferred the harder metal. Pliny expressly tells us that Porsena, after his short-lived conquest, prohibited the future masters of the world from using iron except in agriculture; it was hardly safe to handle a stylus. Polybius notes that in his day bronze was entirely restricted to defensive armour—helmets, breast-plates, and greaves. All offensive weapons, swords and spears, were either made of, or tipped with, steel. To this superiority of material we may attribute the Roman successes in the second Punic war (B.C. 218–201), and their conquest of the gallant Gauls, when their foes could oppose nothing better than bronze. They had reason to call a Sword _ferrum_.[904]

[Heading: _THE SWORD IN ROME._]

The Romans called the Sword Ensis, Gladius, and Spatha. The two former are used as synonyms by Quinctilian,[905] but the first presently became poetical. The derivations are eminently unsatisfactory. Voss would find Ensis in ἔγχος, _hasta_; Sanskritists in _Asi_, a Sword, the Zend _Anh_. Gladius is popularly drawn _a clade ferenda, quasi cladius_ (Varro and Littleton); Voss prefers κλάδον (_ramus_), a young branch, the earliest Sword: to others it appears a congener of the Keltic _Clad_, the destroyer. Of the derivation of ‘Spatha’ I have already treated: Suetonius[906] makes it equivalent to Machaira; but this word and its diminutive Machærium are loosely used.

The Roman Sword was, like their other weapons, longer and larger, heavier and more formidable than that of the Greeks.[907] The earliest form, the ‘hero’s arm’ of Virgil and Livy, was a short single-edged cutting weapon of bronze, also called the ‘Gallic Sword,’ because long preserved by that people. It is shown in the arm of the Roman Auxiliary (fig. 276). Another very early, if not the earliest, shape was the leaf, which varied in length from nineteen inches (the blade found at Mayence) to twenty-six inches (the Bingen find). The latter is peculiar; the hilt is ornamented with bronze, and it has a cross-guard. Upon another blade (fig. 277), of which a cast is in the Artillery Museum, Paris, appears the armourer’s mark, _Sabini_ (_opus_).

The third form, which is most generally identified with the Roman soldier, greatly resembles that which was introduced into the French army by, not without financial benefit to, Marshal Soult. The average length may be assumed at twenty-two inches, with a grip of six inches and a cross-bar (not always present) four inches and a half long and four lines thick. Some specimens show a distinct hilt-plate (fig. 274, 2). A mid-rib ran along the blade, which was either straight or slightly narrowing, and it ended in the bevelled point (_langue de carpe_).[909] This thick heavy blade, used _cæsim et punctim_, was most efficient for hand-to-hand work, and the Roman soon mastered the truth, unknown to most Orientals, that ‘the cut wounds and the thrust kills.’[910] Accordingly they soon learned to despise the old Sword, short and crooked. The national weapon must have been used by Æmilius at the Battle of Telamon (B.C. 225), for Polybius notes that the Roman blade could not only deliver thrust but give the cut with good effect.

Shortly after that fight the Romans, during their earliest invasions of the Spanish Peninsula (B.C. 219), intended to subvert Carthaginian rule, adopted the Gladius Hispanus, including the _pugio_ (fig. 280); and the change from bronze to steel became universal after the battle of Cannæ. The superior material aided them not a little in conquering their obstinate rivals. The Roman Proconsul M. Fulvius captured (B.C. 192) Toledo (Τώλητον), Toletum, ‘a small city, but strong in position;’[911] and the superior temper of the steel, attributed with truth, I believe, to the Tagus-water, recommended it to the conquerors. A later conquest of the Regnum Noricum[912] (Styria, B.C. 16) gave them mines of equal excellence. From Pliny and Diodorus Siculus[913] we know perfectly how the Celtiberians prepared their iron ores. Of this material was made the Spatha[914] or Iberian blade, a name adopted under the Empire, especially under Hadrian (A.D. 117–138). Long, two-edged, and heavier than the short Xiphos-Gladius, it added fresh force to the _impetus gladiorum_.

In Cicero’s time the Sword must have been of full length to explain the joke against his son-in-law; and Macrobius expressly tells us that Lentulus was wearing a blade which justified the ‘chaff.’ During the days of Theodosius (A.D. 378–394), the straight and strong weapon of Hadrian’s time again shortened till it was not twice the size of the hilt; in fact it became a ‘Parazonium.’ The General’s Sword (says Meyrick) was called Cinctorium, because carried at the girdle that surrounded the lorica, just above the hips; ‘it greatly resembled the Lacedæmonian Sword.’

The Parazonium, _pugio_[915] or dagger, accompanied the Gladius under the later Empire, and was carried in the same, or in another, belt, generally on the opposite flank. It is the Greek ἐγχειρίδιον, and we have seen its origin in Egypt. The metal was successively pure copper, bronze and steel. The shape of this two-edged stiletto is either lanceolate (fig. 280 _b_),[916] showing its descent from the spear, or the straight lines converge to a point (_ibid._ _a_). It has a notable resemblance to the daggers found in Egyptian tombs (_ibid._ _c_), and the weapon with the Z-section, still used in the Caucasus and in Persia.[917] The tang is usually fitted to receive a wooden plate on either side: a favourite substance was the heart of the Syrian _terebinth_ (the ‘oak’ of Mamre).

The bronze hilt of the Gladius was retained long after the blade was made of steel. The common grip was of wood set with metal knobs or rivets; the richer sorts were of bone and ivory, amber and alabaster, silver and gold. The heft ended in a _capulus_; this metal pommel[918] was, in its simplest state, a plain mound or a stepped pyramid. But presently the ‘little apple’ became the seat of decoration;[919] Pliny moans over it, and Claudian speaks of _capulis radiantibus enses_. This fashion lasted deep into the Middle Ages. The haft was often capped with the head of some animal after Assyrian fashion, and that of the eagle recurved was a favourite in Rome. In the Armeria Reale (Turin)[920] there is a fine Roman chopper-blade with a peculiar handle, and a ram’s head for hilt. The handle was usually without guard-plate, and at most it had only a simple cross-bar or a small oval.[921]

The original _vagina_ (sheath) was of leather or wood, ending in a _fibula_ or half-moon-shaped ferule of metal. Some scabbards on the monuments, where the Sword, like the helmet and the _pilum_, is conventionally treated, show the scabbard with three opposing rings on either side; and, as the belt had only one or two, it is not easy to explain the use of the other five.[922] In the luxurious days of the Empire, the sheath, like the heft, the pommel, and the ferule, was made of gold and silver reliefs, _repoussée_-work, and incrustations of precious stones disposed upon every part, made it a _chef-d’œuvre_ of art. Such is the ‘Sword,’ or rather ‘Parazonium, of Tiberius’ dug up at Mayence in 1848, and now in the British Museum. The scabbard, the mouth, the rings on either side, and the ferule are strengthened and beautified by reliefs in gold and silver, and the central field bears the portrait of the beautiful ‘Biberius.’ Another Parazonium (Anglo-Rom. Coll.) has an iron blade and a bronze scabbard.

A reform of this over-luxury ensued under Constantius II. (A.D. 350), and under the noble and glorious Julian[923] ‘the Apostate.’ The latter took a lesson from the Eastern Persian, Parthian, and Sarmatian (Slav?); moreover, he adopted the iron face-guard known at Nineveh, and the mail-coat found upon the Trajan column. These revivals and improvements extended deep into the Age of Chivalry.

The Sword was carried in the _balteus_, an Etruscan word applied indifferently, it would appear, to the bauldric (τελαμών), or to the waist-‘belt’ (ζώνη or ζωστήρ, _cingulum_). Both were of cloth or leather, either plain or decorated with embroidery, with metal plates, splendid and elaborate rings and fibulæ, and buckles and brooches of the most precious material. It is generally said that the Gladius, and its successor the long cut-and-thrust Spatha, were worn belted to the right, as amongst the Persians. The old Ensis, on the other hand, was slung to the left, like the Egyptians, Assyrians, Hindús, and other ‘barbarians.’[924] The latter fashion enabled the Swordsman to draw his weapon safely by passing hand and forearm across his body under the shield. He would also in this way grip the hilt with the thumb at the back of the blade, where it should ever be held, especially when delivering the cut. I believe, however, that the Sword was worn by the Romans, as amongst the Greeks, on either flank.[925]

We have no knowledge, except from books, of Roman fancy-Swords. Such, for example, was the _Cluden_ or juggler’s ‘shutting’-Sword, which ran up into the hilt. ‘So great is your fear of steel,’ says Apuleius in his defence, ‘that you are afraid to dance with the “close-Sword.”’

Roman blades of iron are not often found, and yet they must have been made by the million. Captain Grose[926] figures a leaf-shaped blade, like that of the modern Somal, taken from the Severn near Gloucester. Meyrick tells us[927] that Woodchester produced an iron Sword-blade resembling a large and broad knife (the oldest form of Gladius?) and a dagger (_pugio_), nearly one foot long, and much resembling the modern French bayonet. He mentions another iron Gladius nineteen and a half inches long, with a fibula of brass. Rev. T. Douglas, in his ‘Nænia Britannica’[928] shows the find in a Kentish barrow. The Sword measures thirty-five and a quarter inches from pommel to point; the iron blade, thirty inches by two inches broad, is flat and two-edged. The wooden grip had decayed; the scabbard was of wood covered with leather and the weapon hung by a leather strap to the left side. Excavations at South Shields produced, says the Rev. J. Collingwood Bruce,[929] five Roman Swords, two to three feet long, with wooden scabbards and bronze crampets or ferules.

If Greece produced the golden youth of European civilisation, Rome bore the men of antiquity. She taught by example and precept the eternal lesson of individual and national dignity, of law and justice, and of absolute toleration in religious matters. She had no fear of growing great, and scruples about ‘territorial aggrandisement’ were absolutely unknown to her. The _quondam_ Masters of the World effected their marvels of conquest and colonisation with these arts, urged by a forceful will, a will so single-viewed and so persistent that it levelled every obstacle. A similar gift of determination and perseverance made the Turks and Turcomans of a former generation, mere barbarians on horseback, bear down all opposition: hence the Arab still says: ‘Mount your blood mare and the Osmanli shall catch you on his lame ass!’ In virtue of an equal obstinacy, the Kelto-Scandinavian (I will not call him an ‘Anglo-Saxon’), the modern Englishman, has trod worthily in the footsteps of the old Italian, and from his ‘angle of the world,’ his scrap of bleak inclement island, has extended his sway far beyond the orb known to his Cæsars. May he only remember the word ‘Forwards!’ and take to heart the fact that to stand still is to fall back.

The Roman of the Republic was incomparably the first soldier of his age; and he equalled the best of the moderns in discipline, in loyalty to his loaders, and in enduring privations, hardship, and fatigue. But a glance at any of his campaigns—the famous ‘Commentaries’ suffice—shows how completely dependent he was upon the quality of his commander. Handled by second- and third-rate men, such as generals mostly have been, are, and will be, he was ignobly defeated, in his most glorious days, by the barbarous Gauls of Brennus; by the half-servile hordes of Hannibal; by the degenerate Greeks of Pyrrhus with their ‘huge earth-shaking beasts,’ and by the armed mob which the Cheruscan Arminius (Ormin or Hermann) led against the incompetent Varus. His campaigns, invariably successful in the end, were marked by many reverses; and in cases of sudden and sinister emergencies he was too often scared and put to flight. In fact, he could not fight a ‘soldier’s battle’; nor has any race done this effectively in modern days except the English and the Slavs.

But when following military genius, the Roman soldier performed prodigies of gallantry and valour. A Julius Cæsar, a conqueror in fifty pitched battles, whose practice was to order _venite_ not _ite!_ whose military instinct could cry at the spur of the moment in the Pharsalian fight, _faciem feri, miles!_ and who could reduce mutineers to reason by one word, _Quirites!_ never failed to point the way to victory. We learn from the Great Epileptic[930] himself the secret of his unexampled success; the care with which he cultivated the individual. ‘He instructed the soldiers (when exposed to a new mode of attack), not like the general of a veteran army which had been victorious in so many battles, but like a Lanista training his gladiators. He taught them with what foot they must advance or retire; when they were to oppose and make good their ground; when to counterfeit an attack; at what place and in what manner to launch their javelins.’[931]

His very arrogance was effective in making him a ruler of men, as when on receiving bad tidings he struck his Sword-hilt, saying, ‘This will give me my rights!’ And of his ‘politiké’ (as the Greeks call it) we may judge by what Polyænus[932] tells us of him. ‘The Romans had been taught by their commanders that a soldier should not be decorated with gold or silver, but place his confidence in his Sword,’ says Livy.[933] But Divus Cæsar encouraged his men to decorate their weapons with all manner of valuables for a truly soldier-like reason, that they might be the less ready to part with their property in flight. And though he plundered freely and rifled even the fanes of the gods, according to Suetonius, he was careful, like a certain modern Condottiere, to see that his men were well fed and regularly paid by means of the ‘loot.’

[Heading: _THE ROMAN SOLDIER._]

The Roman soldier had another valuable gift, which has not wholly left the Latin race. He knew the ‘magic of patience,’ and was aware that ‘le monde est la maison du plus fort.’ So in the Napoleonic days the Spaniards believed chiefly in General ‘No Importa’ (no matter), and made little of defeat, hoping it might lead to victory. Nor did the Roman soldier degenerate till the citizen set him the example. Velleius Paterculus dated the decline of Roman virtue after the destruction of Carthage, when civil disputes were decided by the Sword; others to the invasion of luxury with Lucullus. Yet Pliny could boast of his fellow-countrymen: ‘They have doubtless surpassed every other nation in the display of valour.’

But the Roman soldier generally prevailed against races whom he excelled in size, weight, and muscular strength. His superiority in arms, like that of the Greek, was not conspicuous when he came into contact with the ‘barbarians,’[934] especially with the northern barbarians, after they had learned the moral training and confidence of discipline and the practical art of war, as well as, if not better than, himself. For the man of the higher European latitudes has ever surpassed the Southron in strength of constitution, in stature, in weight, in muscular power, and in the mysterious something called vitality. Hence it is a rule in anthropology that the North beats the South; in the Southern hemisphere the reverse being the case, as we see in the wars of the Hispano-American republics, Chili _versus_ Peru. In Europe I need only point out that the Northmen of Scandinavia conquered Normandy and that Norman-French conquered England. The only exceptions are easily explained. The genius of Divus Cæsar made his Romans overcome, overrun, and subjugate Gaul. Napoleon the Great found the road _à Berlin_ open and easy. But intellectual monsters like these two are the rare produce of Time; and human nature requires a long period of rest before repeating such portents.

Those who read history without prepossessions and prejudices are compelled to conclude that the life and career of a nation are mainly determined by its physical size and its muscular strength. We have only to learn how many foot-pounds a race can raise and we can forecast its so-called ‘destinies.’[935]