Read Online The Politically Incorrect Guide to Western Civilization (Politically Incorrect Guides) by Anthony Esolen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anthony Esolen
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with Veii: “We admit our defeat, and surrender to you in the belief—than which nothing can do more honour to the victor—that we shall live better lives under your government than under our own.”
The patriot is not the man who does whatever he wishes, even if it is for the apparent advantage of the country. Honor and mercenary calculation are different things. To illustrate, here’s another favorite story of mine—and it hardly matters whether it’s only a pious legend, since it was the sort of thing that defined for the Roman boy what it meant to be a Roman and a man. The Romans have just thrown off the yoke of Tarquin the Proud. Wishing to return to power, Tarquin enlists the aid of another and more powerful Etruscan, Porsena, who lays siege to Rome, preventing anyone from getting in or out. He aims to starve some sense into them.
Then a youth named Mucius, after telling his plan to the “Fathers,” that is the senators, sneaks over the walls and makes his way to the Etruscan camp, a dagger hidden beneath his cloak. There he sees a group of squadron leaders gathered around a man giving orders. He rushes the man and buries the dagger in his chest, killing him instantly. But it was Porsena’s secretary he slew, and not Porsena. At once he is bound and brought to the commander, who asks him what he was doing. His reply ought to be known by every American schoolboy—and once was known, by many:
“I am a Roman citizen,” he cried. “Men call me Gaius Mucius. I am your enemy, and as your enemy I would have slain you; I can die as resolutely as I could kill: both to do and to endure valiantly is the Roman way. Nor am I the only one to carry this resolution against you: behind me is a long line of men who are seeking the same honor. So if you think it worth your while, gird yourself for a long struggle, in which you will have to fight for your life from hour to hour with an armed foe always at your door. Such is the war we, the Roman youths, declare on you. Fear no serried ranks, no battle. It will be between yourself alone and a single enemy at a time” (Livy, 2.12). Porsena, enraged, ordered Mucius flung into the flames, but the Roman in scorn thrust his hand into the fire, saying, as it burned, “Look, see how cheaply we value our bodies, we whose eyes are fixed upon glory!” Moved by the lad’s nobility, Porsena set him free, unharmed. And ever after the good Romans honored Mucius with a jocular nickname, “Scaevola,” meaning “Lefty.” It became his family’s surname, one of the most highly esteemed in Rome.
The Romans could not have survived had they not fostered such manhood in their youths; the Etruscans were stronger than they were. But that was their ideal: scorn for pain, scorn for death, a determination to do what is right, a love for country, and a refusal to surrender.
That refusal is at the heart of the Roman success. The Romans did not produce a lot of military geniuses before Julius Caesar. They did not always have more efficient weaponry, or greater numbers of soldiers. What they did have was an uncompromising belief that the city must survive, and that surrender meant annihilation or servitude. Surrender was not an option.
So the Romans lost plenty of battles, but for many centuries did not lose a single war. Consider one of their worst military disasters, the battle of Lake Trasimene in the second Punic War. 8 The Carthaginian general Hannibal—perhaps the greatest military genius of all time—had ravaged Italy with his armies. One of the Roman consuls longed to engage Hannibal in a pitched battle once and for all. Against the judgment of his fellow consul, he allowed himself to be lured by Hannibal into a trap. The Carthaginian ordered his archers to attack the Romans and then to appear to be repulsed, retreating along the narrow shores of a twenty-mile long lake. They were bounded by water on the right and a mountain ridge on the left. When the Romans
The patriot is not the man who does whatever he wishes, even if it is for the apparent advantage of the country. Honor and mercenary calculation are different things. To illustrate, here’s another favorite story of mine—and it hardly matters whether it’s only a pious legend, since it was the sort of thing that defined for the Roman boy what it meant to be a Roman and a man. The Romans have just thrown off the yoke of Tarquin the Proud. Wishing to return to power, Tarquin enlists the aid of another and more powerful Etruscan, Porsena, who lays siege to Rome, preventing anyone from getting in or out. He aims to starve some sense into them.
Then a youth named Mucius, after telling his plan to the “Fathers,” that is the senators, sneaks over the walls and makes his way to the Etruscan camp, a dagger hidden beneath his cloak. There he sees a group of squadron leaders gathered around a man giving orders. He rushes the man and buries the dagger in his chest, killing him instantly. But it was Porsena’s secretary he slew, and not Porsena. At once he is bound and brought to the commander, who asks him what he was doing. His reply ought to be known by every American schoolboy—and once was known, by many:
“I am a Roman citizen,” he cried. “Men call me Gaius Mucius. I am your enemy, and as your enemy I would have slain you; I can die as resolutely as I could kill: both to do and to endure valiantly is the Roman way. Nor am I the only one to carry this resolution against you: behind me is a long line of men who are seeking the same honor. So if you think it worth your while, gird yourself for a long struggle, in which you will have to fight for your life from hour to hour with an armed foe always at your door. Such is the war we, the Roman youths, declare on you. Fear no serried ranks, no battle. It will be between yourself alone and a single enemy at a time” (Livy, 2.12). Porsena, enraged, ordered Mucius flung into the flames, but the Roman in scorn thrust his hand into the fire, saying, as it burned, “Look, see how cheaply we value our bodies, we whose eyes are fixed upon glory!” Moved by the lad’s nobility, Porsena set him free, unharmed. And ever after the good Romans honored Mucius with a jocular nickname, “Scaevola,” meaning “Lefty.” It became his family’s surname, one of the most highly esteemed in Rome.
The Romans could not have survived had they not fostered such manhood in their youths; the Etruscans were stronger than they were. But that was their ideal: scorn for pain, scorn for death, a determination to do what is right, a love for country, and a refusal to surrender.
That refusal is at the heart of the Roman success. The Romans did not produce a lot of military geniuses before Julius Caesar. They did not always have more efficient weaponry, or greater numbers of soldiers. What they did have was an uncompromising belief that the city must survive, and that surrender meant annihilation or servitude. Surrender was not an option.
So the Romans lost plenty of battles, but for many centuries did not lose a single war. Consider one of their worst military disasters, the battle of Lake Trasimene in the second Punic War. 8 The Carthaginian general Hannibal—perhaps the greatest military genius of all time—had ravaged Italy with his armies. One of the Roman consuls longed to engage Hannibal in a pitched battle once and for all. Against the judgment of his fellow consul, he allowed himself to be lured by Hannibal into a trap. The Carthaginian ordered his archers to attack the Romans and then to appear to be repulsed, retreating along the narrow shores of a twenty-mile long lake. They were bounded by water on the right and a mountain ridge on the left. When the Romans
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