Ruins of Ancient Cities (Vol. 2 of 2)

Three immense arches, which rank amongst the most remarkable remains in Rome, are all that are left of this once stupendous structure, which, until lately, was supposed to be the temple of Peace, erected by Vespasian at the close of the Judean war. But the great degeneracy of the workmanship, and its being wholly unlike all erections of that nature, has led to the opinion that the remains are neither of the time of Vespasian, nor those of the temple, which, with all the immense treasures it contained, was destroyed by fire, about one hundred years after its erection; but of a Basilica[186 - The Basilicæ were very spacious and beautiful edifices, designed chiefly for the centumviri, or the judges to sit in and hear causes, and for the counsellors to receive clients. The bankers, too, had one part of it allotted for their residence. Vossius has observed, that these Basilicæ were exactly in the shape of our churches, oblong almost like a ship; which was the reason that upon the ruin of so many of them Christian churches were several times raised on the old foundations, and very often a whole Basilica converted to such a pious use; and hence, perhaps, all our great domos or cathedrals are still called Basilicæ.], erected by Maxentius on the ruins of the temple, and converted by Constantine into a Christian church. The stupendous proportions of this structure are shown by the three vaulted roofs, each seventy-five feet across, which rise above the surrounding buildings in huge but not ungainly masses. The vault of the middle arch, which is placed further back, forms part of a sphere; the side ones are cylindrical; all are ornamented with sunk panels of stucco-work. The church appears to have consisted of a nave and two aisles, divided by enormous pillars of marble, one of which now stands in front of the church of La Maria Maggiore. It is of a single block, of forty-eight feet in height, and sixteen and a half in circumference.

Of the fine temple, di Venere e Roma,[187 - Burford.] the cella of each deity remains, with the niches, in which were their statues, and a portion of one of the side walls, which prove it to have been of vast size, great magnificence, and a chef-d’œuvre of architecture. The emperor Adrian himself drew the plans, which he submitted to Apollodorus, whose opinion respecting them is said to have been the cause of his untimely death. The temples, although they had each a separate entrance and cella, formed but one edifice; the substructure of which, having been recently excavated, is found to have been three hundred and thirty by one hundred and sixty feet. A noble flight of steps, discovered at the same time, between the arch of Titus and the church of St. Francesco, formed the approach of the Forum, which front, as well as that towards the Coliseum, was adorned with columns of Parian marble, six feet in diameter; and the whole was surrounded by a portico, with a double row of columns of grey granite. The walls and pavement of the interior were incrusted with fine marble, and the roof richly gilt.

The Temple of Antoninus was erected by Marcus Aurelius in 178, in memory of Antoninus and his consort Faustina. The original portico, consisting of ten Corinthian columns of Cippolino marble, and a portion of the temple itself, now form the church of S. Lorenzo in Miranda.

The column of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus was erected by the senate in honour of that illustrious emperor. Bassi-rilievi run spirally from the bottom to the top, representing the Marcomannian war. It is composed of twenty-six blocks of Parian marble, and is one hundred and twenty-three feet in height. The statue of the emperor once stood on its summit, but it has been replaced by that of St. Paul.

This leads us to speak of the great statue of the same emperor. The horse was so greatly admired by Michael Angelo, that when he first saw it, he looked at it in silence for some time, and then said, “Go on!” “This great statue of Marcus Aurelius,” says Mr. Forsyth, “or rather of his horse, which was once the idol of Rome, is now a subject of contention. Some critics find the proportions of the animal false, and his attitude impossible. One compares his head to an owl, another his belly to a cow’s, but the well-known apostrophe of a third (Michael Angelo) will ever prevail in your first impressions. The spirit and fire of the general figure will seduce the most practised eye. Ancient sculptors, intent only on man, are supposed to have neglected the study of animals; and we certainly find very rude accessories affixed to some exquisite antiques. Perhaps they affected such contrasts as strike us in the work of the Faun and his panther, the Meleager and his dogs, the Apollo and his swans, where the accessory serves as a foil. The horse, however, comes so frequently into heroic subjects, that the greatest artists of antiquity must have made him their particular study, and we are told that they did so; but it were unfair to judge of their excellence from this bruised and unfortunate animal.”

This celebrated statue is the only one of bronze of all that adorned the city in ancient times. It has been called, at different periods, by the names of Lucius Verus, Septimius Severus, and Constantine. It was placed in its present position by Paul III. in 1538, being then removed from before the church of St. John Lateran. A bunch of flowers is said to be presented every year to the chapter of St. John, as an acknowledgment, that the statue belongs to them; but this Sir John Hobhouse denies. The statue was originally gilt; the coating laid on, according to the practice of the ancients, in very thick leaves; and some traces of it may still be observed.

We now turn to the Coliseum. The shows of wild beasts were in general designed for the honour of Diana, the patroness of hunting. For this purpose, no cost was spared to fetch the different creatures from the farthest parts of the world.

Part in laden vessels came,
Borne on the rougher waves, or gentler stream;
The fainting man let fall his trembling oar,
And the pale master feared the freight he bore.

And shortly after,

All that with potent teeth command the plain,
All that run horrid with erected mane,
Or proud of stately horns, or bristling hair,
At once the forest’s ornament and fear;
Torn from their deserts by the Roman power,
Nor strength can save, nor craggy dens secure.

Some creatures were presented merely as strange sights and rarities; as crocodiles, and several outlandish birds and beasts: others for the combat, as lions, tigers, leopards, &c. We may reckon up three sorts of diversions with the beasts, which all went under the common name of Venatio: – The first, when the people were permitted to run after the beasts, and catch what they could for their own use; the second, when the beasts fought with one another; and the last, when they were brought out to engage with men.[188 - Kennet.]

The fights between beasts were exhibited with great variety; sometimes a tiger was matched with a lion; sometimes a lion with a bull; a bull with an elephant; a rhinoceros with a bear, &c. But the most wonderful sight was, when by bringing water into the amphitheatre, huge sea-monsters were introduced to combat with wild beasts: —

No sylvan monsters we alone have view’d,
But huge sea calves, dyed red with hostile blood
Of bears, lie floundering in the wondrous flood.

    Calphurn. Eclog. vii.
The men, that engaged with wild beasts, had the common name of Bestiarii. Some of these were condemned persons; others hired themselves at a set pay, like the Gladiators; and like them, too, had their schools where they were instructed and initiated in such combats. We find several of the nobility and gentry many times voluntarily undertaking a part in these encounters; and Juvenal acquaints us, that the very women were ambitious of showing their courage on the like occasions, though with the forfeiture of their modesty.

One of the best accounts of this wonderful edifice, is that given in Burford’s account of the Panorama painted by himself, and now (1839,) exhibiting in Leicester Square, London. “The far-famed amphitheatre of Vespasian, or, as it is more generally called, the Coliseum, is one of the most extraordinary and massive works, that Rome, or any other country, ever produced; and forms one of the most surprising, and intensely interesting, objects of attraction amongst the many gigantic remains of that ancient city. In whatever way it is viewed, whether as regards its immense size, the solidity of its structure, the simplicity and harmony of its architecture, the grace and beauty of its proportions, or its internal arrangement and convenience, it equally strikes the mind with wonder and admiration; and is universally admitted to be one of the noblest remains of antiquity in the world. Placed at some distance from the gorgeous churches, extensive palaces, and busy streets of modern Rome, it stands alone in solitary dignity and gloomy contrast; elevating its stupendous masses from above the surrounding ruins of the imperial city; a striking image of Rome itself in its present state, erect on the one side, fallen on the other; half grey, half green, deserted and decaying; a splendid and melancholy monument of past greatness; and no monument of human power, no memorial of departed ages, ever spoke more forcibly to the heart, or awakened feelings so powerful, and unutterable. The Coliseum was commenced by Flavius Vespasian, in the year 72, as a triumphal memorial of his victories in Judea; and it also served to perpetuate the recollection of the many horrid cruelties, committed by the conquering Romans during that war. It was erected, according to Martial and Pliny, on the spot formerly occupied by a lake or fish-pond, in the gardens of Nero’s golden house, then nearly the centre of the city. Twelve thousand Jewish prisoners, reduced to slavery, were employed on the work; and when it is considered, that so large and solid an edifice was completed in little more than four years, it becomes clearly evident, that the utmost cruelty and oppression must have been resorted to, to compel these unfortunates to complete the task. Titus, the son of Vespasian, finished the building; and on its dedication exhibited shows and games for one hundred days, during which numbers of gladiators were killed, and five thousand wild beasts were torn to pieces in the arena.”

This vast amphitheatre is of an elliptical shape, which gives it great powers of resistance. According to the best and most recent measurement, it must be about one thousand one hundred and eighty eight feet in external circumference, the long axis being six hundred and twenty-eight, the short five hundred and forty, and the total height one hundred and sixty feet.[189 - Some give the dimensions thus: – Greatest length six hundred and twenty-one feet; greatest breadth five hundred and thirteen; outer wall one hundred and fifty-seven feet high in its whole extent.] The whole is a vast mixed mass of enormous blocks of stone and bricks, (probably portions of the golden palace), metal and cement, which have become so hardened by time, as to be like solid rock. The exterior was entirely of calcareous tufa of Tivoli, called travertine, a fine hard and white stone. It presents a series of three ranges of open arcades, so airy and correct in their proportions, that the building does not appear so large as it really is. Each tier consisted of thirty arches; the columns between which, together with the entablatures, displaying different orders of architecture, the lowest being Doric, the second Ionic, and the third Corinthian, surmounted by an attic story, with Composite pilasters, and forty windows. The two upper tiers of arches, which have the remains of pedestals for statues in them, admitted light to the various ambulacra or corridors, which were quadrangular at the base, diminishing in number and size as they ascended, and terminating in a single passage at the top. The lowest tier of arches were the entrances, seventy-six of which were for the emperor, finely ornamented; one for the spectators, of various denominations; and one for the consuls, senators, &c.; and two for the gladiators, animals, &c. These entrances led to the various staircases by which the populace gained the different dormitories, and descended by narrow flights of steps, to the graduated ranges of seats. Altogether there were one hundred and sixty staircases: that is, – to the first floor, sixty-four; to the second, fifty-two; to the third, sixteen; to the fourth, twenty-four; and four to the extreme top, for the workmen. In the four ambulacra on the ground floor, were shops, taverns, stables, and rooms for refreshments, and places where perfumes were burned. There was also a fifth, or private passage, under the pulvinar, for the use of the emperor, which communicated subterraneously with the palace. In the tier above were twenty-two small vaulted chambers, called fornices, devoted to the sensual pleasures of the privileged classes.

It is impossible to say at what period the amphitheatre was first suffered to decay. The sanguinary exhibitions of the gladiators were abolished in the reign of Honorius, at the commencement of the fifth century; yet so late as 1632, it must have been perfect, as bull-fights, and other games, were at that time exhibited. A great portion of the southern side was demolished by order of Paul III., it is said at the recommendation of Michael Angelo, to furnish materials for the Farnese palace for his nephew, and the complaints of the populace alone saved it from total demolition. It has however since suffered frequently from similar depredations of worse than Goths and Vandals, so that

“From its mass,

Walls, palaces, half cities have been rear’d.”

These robberies have now ceased; Benedict XIV. having, by the erection of a series of altars in the arena, made the whole consecrated ground; a most efficient protection against the ravages of modern barbarism. Pius has also erected a massive buttress against the weakest end, and repaired some parts of the interior. Thus, after a lapse of nearly eighteen centuries, having frequently suffered from earthquakes, storms, and fire; having been several times battered as a fortress, during the civil contentions of the middle ages; defaced as a quarter for soldiers; used as a manufactory, and worked as a quarry, it still remains a miracle of human labour and ingenuity, and is, even in its present state, one of the noblest remains of antiquity, and the most wonderful monument of Roman magnificence. Solitary and desolated, it is still grand and imposing; the rich hues which time has overspread its venerable fragments with, the luxuriant clusters of vegetation, and the graceful drapery of numerous beautiful creepers, festooning from the rifted arches, and broken arcades, whilst assimilating with the general character, add an indescribable richness and variety to the whole, that has a powerful effect on the mind of the spectator.

When the whole amphitheatre was entire[190 - Forsyth.], a child might comprehend its design in a moment, and go direct to his place without straying in the porticoes; for each arcade bears its number engraved, and opposite each arcade was a staircase. This multiplicity of wide, straight, and separate passages, proves the attention which the ancients paid to the safe discharge of a crowd.[191 - Ibid.] As it now stands, the Coliseum is a striking image of Rome itself; – decayed, vacant, serious; yet grand: – half grey, and half green; erect on one side and fallen on the other, with consecrated ground in its bosom, inhabited by a herdsman; visited by every caste: for moralists, antiquaries, painters, architects, devotees, all meet here to meditate, to examine, to draw, to measure, and to copy.

The figure of the Coliseum was an ellipse, whose longer diameter was about six hundred and fifteen English feet, and the shorter five hundred and ten feet. The longer diameter of the arena, or space within, was about two hundred and eighty-one feet, and the shorter one hundred and seventy-six feet, leaving the circuit for seats and galleries, of about one hundred and fifty-seven feet in breadth. The outward circumference when complete was about seventeen hundred and seventy-two feet, covering a surface of about two hundred and forty-six thousand, six hundred and sixty-one feet, or something more than five acres and a half. When some pilgrims[192 - Bede.] who journeyed to Rome beheld this vast amphitheatre, they are said to have exclaimed, “As long as the Coliseum stands, Rome shall stand; when the Coliseum falls, Rome will fall; and when Rome falls, the world will fall.”

[193 - Brewster.]It is impossible to contemplate without horror the dreadful scenes of carnage which for two hundred and fifty years disgraced the amphitheatre, or to regard without utter detestation the character of the people who took pleasure in spectacles of such monstrous brutality. We may form some idea of the myriads of men and animals destroyed in these houses of slaughter, from one instance which is recorded by Dio. He informs us that after the triumph of Trajan over the Dacians, spectacles were exhibited for one hundred and twenty-three days, in which eleven thousand animals were killed, and one thousand gladiators were matched against each other. Nor was it only malefactors, captives, and slaves, that were doomed to contend in these dreadful games: free-born citizens hired themselves as gladiators, men of noble birth sometimes degraded themselves so far as to fight on the stage for the amusement of their countrymen, – even women, ladies too of high rank, forgetting the native delicacy and the feebleness of their sex, strove on the arena for the prize of valour for the honour of adroitness in murder. A people thus inured to blood, were prepared for every villainy; nor is it possible to read of the enormities which disgraced the transactions of the later Romans, without ascribing them in a great measure to the ferocity of temper, fostered by the shocking amusements of the amphitheatre.

“The Coliseo,” says Dupaty, “is unquestionably the most admirable monument of the Roman power under the Cæsars. From its vast circuit, from the multitude of stones of which it is formed, from that union of columns of every order, which rise up one above the other, in a circular form, to support three rows of porticoes; from all the dimensions, in a word, of this prodigious edifice, we instantly recognise the work of a people, sovereigns of the universe, and slaves of an emperor. I wandered long around the Coliseo, without venturing, if I may so say, to enter it: my eyes surveyed it with admiration and awe. Not more than one half of this vast edifice at present is standing; yet the imagination may still add what has been destroyed, and complete the whole. At length I entered within its precincts. What an astonishing scene! What contrasts! What a display of ruins, and of all the parts of the monument, of every form, every age, and, as I may say, every year; some bearing the marks of the hand of time, and others of the hand of the barbarian. These crumbled down yesterday, those a few days before, a great number on the point of falling, and some, in short, which are falling from one moment to another. Here we see a tottering portico, there a falling entablament, and further on, a seat; while, in the meanwhile, the ivy, the bramble, the moss, and various plants, creep amongst these ruins, grow, and insinuate themselves; and, taking root in the cement, are continually detaching, separating, and reducing to powder these enormous masses; the work of ages, piled on each other by the will of an emperor, and the labour of a hundred thousand slaves. There was it then that gladiators, martyrs, and slaves, combated on the Roman festivals, only to make the blood circulate a little quicker in the veins of a hundred thousand idle spectators. I thought I still heard the roaring of the lions, the sighs of the dying, the voice of the executioners, and what would strike my ear with still greater horror, the applauses of the Romans. I thought I heard them, by these applauses, encouraging and demanding carnage; the men requiring still more blood from the combatants; and the women, more mercy for the dying. I imagined I beheld one of these women, young and beautiful, on the fall of a gladiator, rise from her seat and with an eye which had just caressed a lover, welcome, or repel, find fault with, or applaud, the last sigh of the vanquished, as if she had paid for it.

“But what a change has taken place in this arena! In the middle stands a crucifix, and all round this crucifix, at equal distances, fourteen altars, consecrated to different saints, are erected in the dens, which once contained the wild beasts. The Coliseo was daily hastening to destruction; the stones were carried off, and it was constantly disfigured, and made the receptacle of filth; when Benedict XIV. conceived the idea of saving this noble monument by consecrating it; by defending it with altars, and protecting it with indulgences. These walls, these columns, and these porticoes, have now no other support but the names of those very martyrs with whose blood they were formerly stained. I walked through every part of the Coliseo; I ascended into all its different stories; and sat down in the box of the emperors. I shall long remember the silence and solitude that reigned through these galleries, along these ranges of seats, and under these vaulted porticoes. I stopped from time to time to listen to the echo of my feet in walking. I was delighted, too, with attending to a certain faint rustling, more sensible to the soul than to the ear, occasioned by the hand of time, which is continually at work, and undermining the Coliseo on every side. What pleasure did I not enjoy, too, in observing how the day gradually retired, and the night as gradually advanced over the arcades, spreading her lengthening shadows. At length I was obliged to retire; with my mind, however, filled with and absorbed in a thousand ideas, a thousand sensations, which can only arise among these ruins, and which these ruins in some degree inspire. Where are the five thousand wild beasts that tore each other to pieces, on the day on which this mighty pile was opened? Silent now are those unnatural shouts of applause, called forth by the murderous fights of the gladiators: – What a contrast to this death of sound!”

“Ascending among the ruins,” says Mr. Williams, “we took our station where the whole magnitude of the Coliseum was visible. What a fulness of mind the first glance excited; yet how inexpressible, at the same time, were our feelings! The awful silence of this dread ruin still appealed to our hearts. The single sentinel’s tread, and the ticking of our watches, were the only sounds we heard, while the moon was marching in the vault of night, and the stars were peeping through the various openings; the shadows of the flying clouds being all that reminded us of life and of motion.”

The manner, in which the traveller should survey the curiosities of Rome, must be determined by the length of time which he can afford for that purpose. “There are two modes of seeing Rome,” says Mr. Mathews; “the topographical, followed by Vasi, who parcels out the town into eight divisions, and jumbles every thing together, – antiquities, churches, and palaces, if their situation be contiguous; and the chronological, – which would carry you regularly from the house of Romulus to the palace of the reigning pontiff. The first mode is the most expeditious, and the least expensive; for even if the traveller walk afoot, the economy of time is worth considering; and after all that can be urged in favour of the chronological order, on the score of reason, Vasi’s plan is perhaps the best. For all that is worth seeing at all is worth seeing twice. Vasi’s mode hurries you through every thing; but it enables you to select and note down those objects that are worthy of public examination, and these may be afterwards studied at leisure. Of the great majority of sights it must be confessed that all we obtain for our labour is the knowledge that they are not worth seeing; – but this is a knowledge, that no one is willing to receive upon the authority of another, and Vasi’s plan offers a most expeditious mode of arriving at this truth by one’s own proper experience. His plan is, however, too expeditious; for he would get through the whole town, with all its wonders, ancient and modern, in eight days!”

Expeditious as it is, some of our indefatigable countrymen have contrived to hit upon one still more so. You may tell them that the antiquaries allow eight days for the tour, and they will boast of having beaten the antiquaries, and “done it in six.” This rapid system may do, or rather must do, for those who have no time for any other; but to the traveller who wishes to derive instruction and profit from his visit, a more leisurely survey is essential. “For my own part,” says Mr. Woods, “the first eight days I spent in Rome were all hurry and confusion, and I could attend to nothing systematically, nor even examine any thing with accuracy; a sort of restless eagerness to see every thing and know every thing, gave me no power of fixing my attention on any one particular.”

We must now close our account: not that we have by any means exhausted the subject, for it demands volumes and years; whereas our space is limited, and our time is short. We shall, therefore, devote the remainder of our space and time to the impressions with which the ruins of this city have been viewed by several elegant and accomplished travellers.

“At length I behold Rome,” said Dupaty. “I behold that theatre, where human nature has been all that it can ever be, has performed every thing it can perform, has displayed all the virtues, exhibited all the vices, brought forth the sublimest heroes, and the most execrable monsters, has been elevated to a Brutus, degraded to a Nero, and re-ascended to a Marcus Aurelius.”

“Even those who have not read at all,” says Dr. Burton, “know, perhaps, more of the Romans than of any other nation[194 - Except that of the Jews.] which has figured in the world. If we prefer modern history to ancient, we still find Rome in every page; and if we look with composure upon an event so antiquated as the fall of the Roman empire, we cannot, as Englishmen, or as protestants, contemplate with indifference the sacred empire which Rome erected over the minds and consciences of men. Without making any invidious allusion, it may be said that this second empire has nearly passed away; so that, in both points of view, we have former recollections to excite our curiosity.”

“Neither the superb structures,” says Sir John Hobhouse, “nor the happy climate, have made Rome the country of every man, and ‘the city of the soul.’ The education, which has qualified the traveller of every nation for that citizenship, prepares enjoyments for him at Rome, independent of the city and inhabitants about him, and of all the allurements of site and climate. He will already people the banks of the Tiber with the shades of Pompey, Constantine, and Belisarius, and other heroes. The first footsteps within the venerable walls will have shown him the name and magnificence of Augustus, and the three long narrow streets, branching from the obelisk in the centre of the Piazza del Popolo, like the theatre of Palladio, will have imposed upon his fancy with an air of antiquity congenial to the soil. Even the mendicants of the country asking alms in Latin prayers, and the vineyard gates of the suburbs, inscribed with the ancient language, may be allowed to contribute to the agreeable delusion.”

“What,” says Chateaubriand, gazing on the ruins of Rome by moonlight, “what was doing here eighteen centuries ago, at a like hour of night? Not only has ancient Italy vanished, but the Italy of the middle ages is also gone. Nevertheless, the traces of both are plainly marked at Rome. If this modern city vaunts her St. Peter’s, ancient Rome opposes her Pantheon and all her ruins; if the one marshals from the Capitol her consuls and emperors, the other arrays her long succession of pontiffs. The Tiber divides the rival glories; seated in the same dust, pagan Rome sinks faster and faster into decay, and Christian Rome is gradually re-descending into the catacombs whence she issued.”

What says Lord Byron in regard to this celebrated city? – “I am delighted with Rome. As a whole – ancient and modern – it beats Greece, Constantinople, every thing, – at least that I have seen. As for the Coliseum, Pantheon, St. Peter’s, the Vatican, &c. &c., they are quite inconceivable, and must be seen.”

We close this article with a fine passage from Middleton’s Life of Cicero: – “One cannot help reflecting on the surprising fate and revolutions of kingdoms; how Rome, once the mistress of the world, the seat of arts, empire, and glory, now lies sunk in sloth, ignorance, and poverty, enslaved to the most cruel, as well as the most contemptible of tyrants, superstition and religious imposture; while this remote country, anciently the jest and contempt of the polite Romans, is become the happy seat of liberty, plenty, and letters; flourishing in all the arts and refinements of civil life; yet running, perhaps, the same course which Rome itself had run before, – from virtuous industry to wealth; from wealth to luxury; from luxury to an impatience of discipline and corruption of morals; till, by a total degeneracy and loss of virtue, being grown ripe for destruction, it falls a prey at last to some hardy oppressor; and, with the loss of liberty, losing every thing that is valuable, sinks gradually again into original barbarism.”

See the wild waste of all-devouring years:
How Rome her own sad sepulchre appears!
With nodding arches, broken temples spread!
The very tombs now vanish’d like their dead!
Imperial wonders raised on nations spoil’d,
Where mix’d with slaves the groaning martyr toil’d:
Huge theatres, that now unpeopled woods,
Now drain’d a distant country of her floods:
Fanes, which admiring gods with pride survey,
Statues of men, scarce less alive than they![195 - Livy; Cicero; Dionysius of Halicarnassus; Seneca; Pliny; Tacitus; Dion Cassius; Poggio Bracciolini; Rollin; Taylor; Kennet; Hooke; Gibbon; Middleton; Dupaty; Vasi; Chateaubriand; Wraxall; Wood; Forsyth; Eustace; Gell; Encylop. Metropolitana, Brewster, Rees, Britannica, Londinensis; Parker (Sat. Magazine); Knight (Penny Magazine); Burford; Hobhouse; Simond; Rome in the Nineteenth Century; Williams; Mathews; Burton.]

    Pope’s Epistle to Addison.

NO. XXII. – SAGUNTUM

Proud and cruel nation! every thing must be yours, and at your disposal! You are to prescribe to us with whom we shall make war; with whom we shall make peace! You are to set bounds; to shut us up between hills and rivers: but you – you are not to observe the limits which yourselves have fixed. Pass not the Iberus. What next? Touch not the Saguntines. Saguntum is upon the Iberus; move not a step towards that city.

    HANNIBAL’S SPEECH TO HIS SOLDIERS.