9.2
…he [Pontius, the Samnite commander] took the field and, keeping his movements as secret as possible, fixed his camp in the neighborhood of Caudium. From there he sent ten soldiers disguised as shepherds to Calatia, where he understood that the Roman consuls were encamped, with instructions to pasture some cattle in different directions near the Roman outposts. When they fell in with any foraging parties they were all to tell the same story, and say that the Samnite legions were in Apulia investing Luceria with their whole force and that its capture was imminent. This rumor had purposely been spread before and had already reached the ears of the Romans; the captured shepherds confirmed their belief in it, especially as their statements all tallied. There was no doubt but that the Romans would assist the Lucerians for the sake of protecting their allies and preventing the whole of Apulia from being intimidated by the Samnites into open revolt. The only matter for consideration was what route they would take. There were two roads leading to Luceria; one along the Adriatic coast through open country, the longer one of the two but so much the safer; the other and shorter one through the Caudine Forks. This is the character of the spot; there are two passes, deep, narrow, with wooded hills on each side, and a continuous chain of mountains extends from one to the other. Between them lies a watered grassy plain through the middle of which the road goes. Before you reach the plain you have to pass through the first defile and either return by the same path by which you entered or, if you go on, you must make your way out by a still narrower and more difficult pass at the other end. The Roman column descended into this plain from the first defile with its overhanging cliffs, and marched straight through to the other pass. They found it blocked by a huge barricade of felled trees with great masses of rock piled against them. No sooner did they become aware of the enemy’s stratagem than his outposts showed themselves on the heights above the pass. A hasty retreat was made, and they proceeded to retrace their steps by the way they had come when they discovered that this pass also had its own barricade and armed men on the heights above. Then without any order being given they called a halt. Their senses were dazed and stupefied and a strange numbness seized their limbs. Each gazed at his neighbor, thinking him more in possession of his senses and judgment than himself. For a long time they stood silent and motionless, then they saw the consuls’ tents being set up and some of the men getting their entrenching tools ready. Though they knew that in their desperate and hopeless plight it would be ridiculous for them to fortify the ground on which they stood still, not to make matters worse by any fault of their own they set to work without waiting for orders and entrenched their camp with its rampart close to the water. While they were thus engaged the enemy showered taunts and insults upon them, and they themselves in bitter mockery jeered at their own fruitless labor. The consuls were too much depressed and unnerved even to summon a council of war, for there was no place for either counsel or help, but the staff-officers and tribunes gathered round them, and the men with their faces turned towards their tents sought from their leaders a succour which the gods themselves could hardly render them.9.3
Night surprised them while they were lamenting over their situation rather than consulting how to meet it. The different temperaments of the men came out; some exclaimed: “Let us break through the barricades, scale the mountain slopes, force our way through the forest, try every way where we can carry arms. Only let us get at the enemy whom we have beaten for now nearly thirty years; all places will be smooth and easy to a Roman fighting against the perfidious Samnite.” Others answered: “Where are we to go? How are we to get there? Are we preparing to move the mountains from their seat? How will you get at the enemy as long as these peaks hang over us? Armed and unarmed, brave and cowardly we are all alike trapped and conquered. The enemy will not even offer us the chance of an honorable death by the sword, he will finish the war without moving from his seat.” Indifferent to food, unable to sleep, they talked in this way through the night. Even the Samnites were unable to make up their minds what to do under such fortunate circumstances. It was unanimously agreed to write to Herennius, the captain-general’s father, and ask his advice. He was now advanced in years and had given up all public business, civil as well as military, but though his physical powers were failing his intellect was as sound and clear as ever. He had already heard that the Roman armies were hemmed in between the two passes at the Caudine Forks, and when his son’s courier asked for his advice he gave it as his opinion that the whole force ought to be at once allowed to depart uninjured. This advice was rejected and the courier was sent back to consult him again. He now advised that they should everyone be put to death. On receiving these replies, contradicting each other like the ambiguous utterances of an oracle, his son’s first impression was that his father’s mental powers had become impaired through his physical weakness. However, he yielded to the unanimous wish and invited his father to the council of war. The old man, we are told, at once complied and was conveyed in a wagon to the camp. After taking his seat in the council, it became clear from what he said that he had not changed his mind, but he explained his reasons for the advice he gave. He believed that by taking the course he first proposed, which he considered the best, he was establishing a durable peace and friendship with a most powerful people in treating them with such exceptional kindness; by adopting the second he was postponing war for many generations, for it would take that time for Rome to recover her strength painfully and slowly after the loss of two armies. There was no third course. When his son and the other chiefs went on to ask him what would happen if a middle course were taken, and they were dismissed unhurt but under such conditions as by the rights of war are imposed on the vanquished, he replied: “That is just the policy which neither procures friends nor rids us of enemies. Once let men whom you have exasperated by ignominious treatment live and you will find out your mistake. The Romans are a nation who know not how to remain quiet under defeat. Whatever disgrace this present extremity burns into their souls will rankle there forever, and will allow them no rest till they have made you pay for it many times over.”

9.4
Neither of these plans was approved and Herennius was carried home from the camp. In the Roman camp, after many fruitless attempts had been made to break out and they found themselves at last in a state of utter destitution, necessity compelled them to send envoys to the Samnites to ask in the first instance for fair terms of peace, and failing that to challenge them to battle. Pontius replied that all war was at an end, and since even now that they were vanquished and captured they were incapable of acknowledging their true position, he should deprive them of their arms and send them under the yoke, allowing them to retain one garment each. The other conditions would be fair to both victors and vanquished. If they evacuated Samnium and withdrew their colonists from his country, the Roman and the Samnite would henceforth live under their own laws as sovereign states united by a just and honorable treaty. On these conditions he was ready to conclude a treaty with the consuls, if they rejected any of them he forbade any further overtures to be made to him. When the result was announced, such a universal cry of distress arose, such gloom and melancholy prevailed, that they evidently could not have taken it more heavily if it had been announced to them all that they must die on the spot. Then followed a long silence. The consuls were unable to breathe a word either in favour of a capitulation so humiliating or against one so necessary. At last L. Lentulus, of all the staff-officers the most distinguished, both by his personal qualities and the offices he had held, spoke: “I have often,” he said, “heard my father, consuls, say that he was the only one in the Capitol who refused to ransom the City from the Gauls with gold, for the force in the Capitol was not invested and shut in with fosse and rampart, as the Gauls were too indolent to undertake that sort of work; it was therefore quite possible for them to make a sortie involving, perhaps, heavy loss, but not certain destruction. If we had the same chance of fighting, whether on favorable or unfavorable ground, which they had of charging down upon the foe from the Capitol, in the same way as the besieged have often made sorties against their besiegers, I should not fall behind my father’s spirit and courage in the advice which I should give. To die for one’s country is, I admit, a glorious thing, and as concerns myself I am ready to devote myself for the people and legions of Rome or to plunge into the midst of the enemy. But it is here that I behold my country, it is on this spot that all the legions which Rome possesses are gathered, and unless they wish to rush to death for their own sakes, to save their honor, what else have they that they can save by their death. ‘The dwellings of the City,’ somebody may reply, ‘and its walls, and that crowd of human beings who form its population.’ Nay, on the contrary, all these things are not saved, they are handed over to the enemy if this army is annihilated. For who will protect them? A defenseless multitude of non-combatants, I suppose; as successfully as it defended them from the approach of the Gauls. Or will they implore the help of an army from Veii with Camillus at its head? Here and here alone are all our hopes, all our strength. If we save these we save our country, if we give these up to death we desert and betray our country. ‘Yes,’ you say, ‘but surrender is base and ignominious.’ It is; but true affection for our country demands that we should preserve it, if need be, by our disgrace as much as by our death. However great then the indignity, we must submit to it and yield to the compulsion of necessity, a compulsion which the gods themselves cannot evade! Go, consuls, give up your arms as a ransom for that State which your ancestors ransomed with gold!

9.5
The consuls left to confer with Pontius. When the victor began to insist upon a treaty, they told him that a treaty could not possibly be made without the orders of the people nor without the fetials and the usual ceremonial. So that the convention of Claudium did not, as is commonly believed and as even Claudius asserts, take the form of a regular treaty. It was concluded through a sponsio, i.e. by the officers giving their word of honor to observe the conditions. For what need would there have been in the case of a treaty for any pledge from the officers or for any hostages, since in concluding a treaty the imprecation is always used: “By whosesoever default it may come about that the said conditions are not observed, may Jupiter so smite that people as this swine is now struck by the fetials.” The consuls, the staff-officers, the quaestors, and the military tribunes all gave their word on oath, and all their names are extant today, whereas if a regular treaty had been concluded no names but those of the two fetials would have survived. Owing to the inevitable delay in arranging a treaty, 600 equites were demanded as hostages to answer with their lives if the terms of the capitulation were not observed. Then a definite time was fixed for surrendering the hostages and sending the army, deprived of its arms, under the yoke. The return of the consuls with the terms of surrender renewed the grief and distress in the camp. So bitter was the feeling that the men had difficulty in keeping their hands off those “through whose rashness,” they said, “they had been brought into that place and through whose cowardice they would have to leave it in a more shameful plight than they had come. They had had no guides who knew the neighborhood, no scouts had been thrown out, they had fallen blindly like wild animals into a trap.” There they were, looking at each other, gazing sadly at the armor and weapons which were soon to be given up, their right hands which were to be defenseless, their bodies which were to be at the mercy of their enemies. They pictured to themselves the hostile yoke, the taunts and insulting looks of the victors, their marching disarmed between the armed ranks, and then afterwards the miserable progress of an army in disgrace through the cities of their allies, their return to their country and their parents, whither their ancestors had so often returned in triumphal procession. They alone, they said, had been defeated without receiving a single wound, or using a single weapon, or fighting a single battle, they had not been allowed to draw the sword or come to grips with the enemy; courage and strength had been given them in vain. While they were uttering these indignant protests, the hour of their humiliation arrived which was to make everything more bitter for them by actual experience than they had anticipated or imagined. First of all they were ordered to lay down their arms and go outside the rampart with only one garment each. The first to be dealt with were those surrendered as hostages who were taken away for safe keeping. Next, the lictors were ordered to retire from the consuls, who were then stripped of their paludamenta. This aroused such deep commiseration amongst those who a short time ago had been cursing them and saying that they ought to be surrendered and scourged, that every man, forgetting his own plight, turned away his eyes from such an outrage upon the majesty of state as from a spectacle too horrible to behold.

9.6
The consuls were the first to be sent, little more than half-clothed, under the yoke, then each in the order of his rank was exposed to the same disgrace, and finally, the legionaries one after another. Around them stood the enemy fully armed, reviling and jeering at them; swords were pointed at most of them, and when they offended their victors by showing their indignation and resentment too plainly some were wounded and even killed. Thus were they marched under the yoke. But what was still harder to bear was that after they had emerged from the pass under the eyes of the foe though, like men dragged up from the jaws of hell, they seemed to behold the light for the first time, the very light itself, serving only to reveal such a hideous sight as they marched along, was more gloomy than any shape of death. They could have reached Capua before nightfall, but not knowing how their allies would receive them, and kept back by a feeling of shame, they all flung themselves, destitute of everything, on the sides of the road near Capua. As soon as news of this reached the place, a proper feeling of compassion for their allies got the better of the inborn disdain of the Campanian; they immediately sent to the consuls their own insignia of office, the fasces and the lictors, and the soldiers they generously supplied with arms, horses, clothes, and provisions. As they entered Capua the senate and people came out in a body to meet them, showed them all due hospitality, and paid them all the consideration to which as individuals and as members of an allied state they were entitled. But all the courtesies and kindly looks and cheerful greetings of their allies were powerless to evoke a single word or even to make them lift up their eyes and look in the face the friends who were trying to comfort them. To such an extent did feelings of shame make their gloom and despondency all the heavier, and constrain them to shun the converse and society of men. The next day some young nobles were commissioned to escort them to the frontier. On their return they were summoned to the Senate-house, and in answer to inquiries on the part of the older senators they reported that they seemed to be much more gloomy and depressed than the day before; the column moved along so silently that they might have been dumb; the Roman mettle was cowed; they had lost their spirit with their arms; they saluted no man, nor did they return any man’s salutation; not a single man had the power to open his mouth for fear of what was coming; their necks were bowed as if they were still beneath the yoke. The Samnites had won not only a glorious victory but a lasting one; they had not only captured Rome as the Gauls had done before them, but, what was a still more warlike exploit, they had captured the Roman courage and hardihood.

9.7
While this report was being made and listened to with the greatest attention, and the name and greatness of Rome were being mourned over as though lost forever, in the council of her faithful allies, Ofillius Calavius, the son of Ovus, addressed the senators. He was a man of high birth and with a distinguished career and now venerable for his age. He is reported to have said: “The truth is far otherwise. That stubborn silence, those eyes fixed on the ground, those ears deaf to all consolation, that shame-faced shrinking from the light, are all indications of a terrible resentment fermenting in their hearts which will break out in vengeance. Either I know nothing of the Roman character or that silence will soon call forth amongst the Samnites cries of distress and groans of anguish. The memory of the capitulation of Caudium will be much more bitter to the Samnites than to the Romans. Whenever and wherever they meet each side will be animated by its own courage and the Samnites will not find the Caudine Forks everywhere. Rome was now aware of its disaster. The first information they received was that the army was blockaded, then came the more gloomy news of the ignominious capitulation. Immediately on receiving the first intelligence of the blockade they began to levy troops, but when they heard that the army had surrendered in such a disgraceful way, the preparations for relieving them were abandoned, and without waiting for any formal order the whole City presented the aspect of public mourning. The booths round the Forum were shut up; all public business in the Forum ceased spontaneously before the proclamation closing it was made; the senators laid aside their purple striped tunics and gold rings; the gloom amongst the citizens was almost greater than that in the army. Their indignation was not confined to the generals or the officers who had made the convention, even the innocent soldiers were the objects of resentment, they said they would not admit them into the City. But this angry temper was dispelled by the arrival of the troops; their wretched appearance awoke commiseration amongst the most resentful. They did not enter the City like men returning in safety after being given up for lost, but in the guise and with the expression of prisoners. They came late in the evening and crept to their homes, where they kept themselves so close that for some days not one of them would show himself in public or in the Forum. The consuls shut themselves up in privacy and refused to discharge any official functions with the exception of one which was wrung from them by a decree of the senate, namely, the nomination of a Dictator to conduct the elections. They nominated Q. Fabius Ambustus, with P. Aelius Paetus as Master of the Horse. Their appointment was found to be irregular, and they were replaced by M. Aemilius Papus as Dictator and L. Valerius Flaccus as Master of the Horse. Even they, however, were not allowed to conduct the elections; the people were dissatisfied with all the magistrates of that year, and so matters reverted to an interregnum. Q. Fabius Maximus and M. Valerius Corvus were successively interreges, and the latter held the consular elections. Q. Publilius Philo and L. Papirius Cursor – the latter for the second time – were returned. The choice was universally approved, for all knew there were no more brilliant generals at that day.

9.8
They entered upon the active duties of their office on the very day of their election, for so had the senate decreed, and after disposing of the business connected with their accession to office, they proceeded at once to introduce the subject of the capitulation of Caudium. Publilius, who was the presiding consul, called upon Spurius Postumius to speak. He rose in his place with just the same expression that he had worn when passing under the yoke, and began: “Consuls, I am quite aware that I have been called upon to speak first, not because I am foremost in honor, but because I am foremost in disgrace and hold the position not of a senator but of a man on his trial who has to meet the charge not only of an unsuccessful war but also of an ignominious peace. Since, however, you have not introduced the question of our guilt or punishment, I shall not enter upon a defence which in the presence of men not unacquainted with the mutability of human fortunes would not be a very difficult one to undertake. I will state in a few words what I think about the question before us, and you will be able to judge from what I say whether it was myself or your legions that I spared when I pledged myself to the convention, however shameful or however necessary it was. This convention, however, was not made by the order of the Roman people, and therefore the Roman people is not bound by it, nor is anything due to the Samnites under its terms beyond our own persons. Let us be surrendered by the fetials, stripped and bound; let us release the people from their religious obligations if we have involved them in any, so that without infringing any law human or divine we may resume a war which will be justified by the law of nations and sanctioned by the gods. I advise, that in the meantime the consuls enroll and equip an army and lead it forth to war, but that they do not cross the hostile frontier until all our obligations under the terms of surrender have been discharged. And you, immortal gods, I pray and beseech, that as it was not your will that the consuls Sp. Postumius and T. Veturius should wage a successful war against the Samnites, you may at least deem it enough to have witnessed us sent under the yoke and compelled to submit to a shameful convention, enough to witness us surrendered, naked and in chains, to the enemy, taking upon our heads the whole weight of his anger and vengeance! May it be in accordance with your will that the legions of Rome under fresh consuls should wage war against the Samnites in the same way in which all wars were waged before we were consuls!” When he finished speaking, such admiration and pity were felt for him that they could hardly think that it was the same Sp. Postumius who had concluded such a disgraceful peace. They viewed with the utmost sadness the prospect of such a man suffering at the hands of the enemy such terrible punishment as he was sure to meet with, enraged as they would be at the rupture of the peace. The whole House expressed in terms of the highest praise their approval of his proposal. They were beginning to vote on the question when two of the tribunes of the plebs, L. Livius and Q. Maelius, entered a protest which they afterwards withdrew. They argued that the people as a whole would not be discharged from their religious obligation by this surrender unless the Samnites were placed in the same position of advantage which they held at Caudium. Further, they said they did not deserve any punishment for having saved the Roman army by undertaking to procure peace, and they urged as a final reason that as they, the tribunes, were sacrosanct and their persons inviolable they could not be surrendered to the enemy or exposed to any violence.

9.9
To this Postumius replied: “In the meanwhile, surrender us, whom no inviolability protects and whose surrender will violate no man’s conscience. Afterwards you will surrender those ‘sacrosanct ‘ gentlemen also as soon as their year of office expires, but if you take my advice you will see that before they are surrendered they are scourged in the Forum by way of paying interest for a punishment that will have been delayed. Why, who is so ignorant of fetial law as not to see that these men are saying this, not because it represents the fact but to prevent their being surrendered? I do not deny, senators, that where the pledged words of men are held to possess a binding force only second to the sanctions of religion, then such undertakings as we have given are as sacred as formal treaties. But I do say that without the express order of the people nothing can be ratified which can bind the people. Suppose the Samnites, in the same spirit of insolent pride in which they extorted this capitulation from us, had compelled us to recite the formula for the surrender of cities, would you say, tribunes, that the Roman people was surrendered and that this City with its shrines and temples, its territory, and its waters had become the property of the Samnites? I say no more about surrender because what we are considering is the pledge we gave in the capitulation. Well now, suppose we had given a pledge that the Roman people would abandon this City, would burn it, would no longer have its own magistrates and senates and laws, but would live under the rule of kings. ‘Heaven forbid!’ you say. Yes, but the binding force of a capitulation is not lightened by the humiliating nature of its terms. If the people can be bound by any article, it can by all. The point which some consider important, namely whether it is a consul or a Dictator or a praetor who has given the undertaking is of no weight whatever. The
Samnites themselves made this clear, for it was not enough for them that the consuls pledged themselves, they compelled the staff-officers, the quaestors, and the military tribunes to do the same. “Now no one need say to me, ‘Why did you pledge yourself in that way, seeing that a consul has no right to do so and you were not in a position to promise them a peace of which you could not guarantee the ratification, or to act on behalf of the people when they had given you no mandate to do so?’ Nothing that happened at Caudium, senators, was dictated by human prudence; the gods deprived both the enemy’s commanders and your own of their senses. We did not exercise sufficient caution in our various movements, they in their folly threw away a victory when they had won through our folly. They hardly felt safe on the very ground which gave them their victory, such a hurry were they in to agree to any conditions if only they could deprive of their arms men who were born to arms. If they had been in their senses, would they have had any difficulty in sending envoys to Rome whilst they were fetching an old man from his home to advise them? Was it impossible for them to enter into negotiations with the senate and with the people about securing peace and making a treaty? It is a three days’ journey for lightly-equipped horsemen, and in the meantime there would have been an armistice until the envoys returned bringing either peace or the certainty of their victory. Then and then only would there have been a binding agreement, because we should have made it by order of the people. But you would not have made such an order, nor should we have given such a pledge. It was not the will of heaven that there should be any other result than this, namely, that the Samnites should be vainly deluded by a dream too delightful for their minds to grasp, that the same Fortune which had imprisoned our army should also release it, that an illusory victory should be rendered futile by a still more illusory peace, and that stipulations should be brought in, binding on none but those who actually made them. For what share have you, senators, what share has the people in this business? Who can call you to account, who can say that you have deceived him? The enemy? You have given no pledge to the enemy. Any fellow-citizen? You have not empowered any fellow-citizen to give a pledge on your behalf. You are not in any way involved with us, for you have given us no mandate; you are not answerable to the Samnites, for you have had no dealings with them. It is we who are answerable, pledged as debtors and quite able to discharge the debt in respect of what is our own, which we are prepared to pay, that is, our own persons and lives. On these let them wreak their vengeance, for these let them sharpen their swords and their rage. As for the tribunes, you ought to consider whether it is possible for them to be surrendered at once, or whether it ought to be deferred, but as for us, T. Veturius and the rest of you who are concerned, let us in the meantime offer these worthless lives of ours in discharge of our bond, and by our deaths set free the arms of Rome for action.”

9.10
Both the speech and the speaker produced a great impression on all who heard him, including the tribunes, who were so far influenced by what they had heard that they formally placed themselves at the disposal of the senate. They immediately resigned their office and were handed over to the fetials to be conducted with the rest to Caudium. After the senate had passed their resolution, it seemed as though the light of day was once more shining on the State. The name of Postumius was in all men’s mouths, he was extolled to the skies, his conduct was put on a level with the self-sacrifice of P. Decius and other splendid deeds of heroism. It was through his counsel and assistance, men said, that the State had found its way out of a dishonorable and guilty peace; he was exposing himself to the rage of the enemy and all the tortures they could inflict as an expiatory victim for the Roman people. All eyes were turned to arms and war; “shall we ever be allowed,” they exclaimed, “to meet the Samnites in arms?” Amidst this blaze of angry excitement and thirst for vengeance, a levy was made and nearly all re-enlisted as volunteers. Nine legions were formed out of the former troops, and the army marched to Caudium. The fetials went on in advance, and on arriving at the city gate they ordered the garment to be stripped off from those who had made the capitulation and their arms to be tied behind their backs. As the apparitor, out of respect for Postumius’ rank, was binding his cords loosely, “Why do you not,” he asked, “draw the cord tight that the surrender may be made in due form?” When they had entered the council chamber and reached the tribunal where Pontius was seated, the fetial addressed him thus: “Forasmuch as these men have, without being ordered thereto by the Roman people, the Quirites, given their promise and oath that a treaty shall be concluded and have thereby been guilty of high crime and misdemeanor, I do herewith make surrender to you of these men, to the end that the Roman people may be absolved from the guilt of a heinous and detestable act.” As the fetial said this Postumius struck him as hard as he could with his knee, and in a loud voice declared that he was a Samnite citizen, that he had violated the law of nations in maltreating the fetial who, as herald, was inviolable, and that after this the Romans would be all the more justified in prosecuting the war.

9.11
Pontius replied: “I shall not accept this surrender of yours nor will the Samnites regard it as valid. Why do you not, Spurius Postumius, if you believe in the existence of gods, either cancel the whole agreement or abide by what you have pledged yourself to. The Samnite people have a right to all those whom it held in its power, or in their stead it has a right to make peace with Rome. But why do I appeal to you? You are keeping your word as far as you can and rendering yourself as prisoner to your conqueror. I appeal to the Roman people. If they are dissatisfied with the convention of the Caudine Forks, let them place their legions once more between the passes which imprisoned them. Let there be no fraudulent dealing on either side, let the whole transaction be annulled, let them resume the arms which they delivered up at the capitulation, let them return to that camp of theirs, let them have everything that they had on the eve of their surrender. When that is done, then let them take a bold line and vote for war, then let the convention and the peace agreed to be repudiated. Let us carry on the war with the same fortune and on the same ground which we held before any mention was made of peace; the Roman people will not then have any occasion to blame their consuls for pledges they had no right to give, nor shall we have any reason to charge the Roman people with any breach of faith. “Will you never be at a loss for reasons why, after defeat, you should not abide by your agreements? You gave hostages to Porsena, afterwards you stole them away. You ransomed your city from the Gauls with gold, whilst they were in the act of receiving the gold they were cut down. You made peace with us on condition of our restoring your captured legions, you are now making that peace null and void. You always cloak your dishonest dealing under some specious pretext of right and justice. Does the Roman people not approve of its legions being saved at the cost of a humiliating peace? Then let it keep its peace to itself, only let it restore to the victor its captured legions. Such action would be in accord with the dictates of honor, with the faith of treaties, with the solemn proceedings of the fetials. But that you should secure what you stipulated for, the safety of thousands of your countrymen, whilst I am not to secure the peace which I stipulated for when I released them – is this what you Aulus Cornelius and you fetials call acting according to the law of nations? “As to those men whom you make believe to surrender I neither accept them nor do I regard them as surrendered, nor do I hinder them from returning to their countrymen, who are bound by a convention, the violation of which brings down the wrath of all the gods whose majesty is being trifled with. True, Spurius Postumius has just struck the herald fetial with his knee, then wage war! Of course the gods will believe that Postumius is a Samnite citizen not a Roman, and that it is by a Samnite citizen that a Roman herald has been maltreated, and that for that reason you are justified in making war upon us. It is sad to think that you feel no shame in exposing this mockery of religion to the light of day, and that old men of consular rank should invent excuses for breaking their word which even children would think beneath them. Go, lictor, remove the bonds from the Romans, let none of them be hindered from departing where they please.” Thus set free they returned to the Roman camp, their personal obligations and possibly those of the State having been discharged.

9.12
The Samnites clearly saw that instead of the peace which they had so arrogantly dictated, a most bitter war had commenced. They not only had a foreboding of all that was coming but they almost saw it with their eyes; now when it was too late they began to view with approval the two alternatives which the elder Pontius had suggested. They saw that they had fallen between the two, and by adopting a middle course had exchanged the secure possession of victory for an insecure and doubtful peace. They realized that they had lost the chance of doing either a kindness or an injury, and would have to fight with those whom they might have got rid of forever as enemies or secured forever as friends. And though no battle had yet given either side the advantage, men’s feelings had so changed that Postumius enjoyed a greater reputation amongst the Romans for his surrender than Pontius possessed amongst the Samnites for his bloodless victory. The Romans regarded the possibility of war as involving the certainty of victory, whilst the Samnites looked upon the renewal of hostilities by the Romans as equivalent to their own defeat. In the meantime, Satricum revolted to the Samnites. (The latter made a sudden descent on Fregellae and succeeded in occupying it in the night, assisted, there is no doubt, by the Satricans. Mutual fear kept both the Samnites and the Fregellans quiet till daylight, with the return of light the battle began. For some time the Fregellans held their ground, for they were fighting for their hearths and homes and the noncombatant population assisted them from the roofs of the houses. At length the assailants gained the advantage by adopting a ruse. A proclamation was made that all who laid down their arms should depart unhurt, and the defenders did not interfere with the crier who made it. Now that there were hopes of safety they fought with less energy and in all directions arms were thrown away. Some, however, showed more determination and made their way fully armed through the opposite gate. Their courage proved a better protection than the timid credulity of the others, for these were hemmed in by the Samnites with a ring of fire, and in spite of their cries for mercy were burnt to death. After arranging their respective commands, the consuls took the field. Papirius marched into Apulia as far as Luceria, where the equites who had been given as hostages at Caudium were interned; Publilius remained in Samnium to oppose the legions that had been at Caudium. His presence made the Samnites uncertain how to act; they could not march to Luceria for fear of exposing themselves to a rear attack, nor did they feel satisfied to remain where they were, as Luceria might in the meantime be lost. They decided that the best course would be to try their fortune and hazard a battle with Publilius.

9.13
Accordingly, they drew up their forces for action. Before engaging them Publilius thought he ought to address a few words to his men, and ordered the Assembly to be sounded. There was such an eager rush, however, to the general’s tent, and such loud shouts were raised in all directions as the men clamored to be led to battle, that none of the general’s address was heard; the memory of their recent disgrace was quite enough of itself to stimulate every man to fight. They strode rapidly into battle, urging the standard-bearers to move faster, and, to avoid any delay in having to hurl their javelins, they flung them away as if at a given signal and rushed upon the enemy with naked steel. There was no time for the commander’s skill to be shown in maneuvering his men or posting his reserves, it was all carried through by the enraged soldiers, who charged like madmen. The enemy were not only routed, they did not even venture to stay their flight at their camp, but went in scattered parties in the direction of Apulia. Eventually they rallied and reached Luceria in a body. The same rage and fury which had carried the Romans through the midst of the enemy hurried them on to the Samnite camp, and more carnage took place there than on the battle-field. Most of the plunder was destroyed in their excitement. The other army under Papirius had marched along the coast and reached Arpi. The whole of the country through which he passed was peaceably disposed, an attitude which was due more to the injuries inflicted by the Samnites than to any services which the Romans had rendered. For the Samnites used to live at that day in open hamlets among the mountains, and they were in the habit of making marauding incursions into the low country and the coastal districts. Living the free open-air life of mountaineers themselves they despised the less hardy cultivators of the plains who, as often happens, had developed, a character in harmony with their surroundings. If this tract of country had been on good terms with the Samnites, the Roman army would either have failed to reach Arpi or they would have been unable to obtain provisions on their route, and so would have been cut off from supplies of every kind. Even as it was, when they had advanced to Luceria both besieged and besiegers were suffering from scarcity of provisions. The Romans drew all their supplies from Arpi but in very small quantities, for, as the infantry were all employed in outpost and patrol duty and in the construction of the siege-works, the cavalry brought the corn from Arpi in their haversacks, and sometimes when they encountered the enemy they were compelled to throw these away so as to be free to fight. The besieged, on the other hand, were obtaining their provisions and reinforcements from Samnium. But the arrival of the other consul, Publilius, with his victorious army led to their being more closely invested. He left the conduct of the siege to his colleague that he might be free to intercept the enemy’s convoys on all sides. When the Samnites, who were encamped before Luceria, found that there was no hope of the besieged enduring their privations any longer, they were compelled to concentrate their whole strength and offer battle to Papirius.