Ab urbe condita

Under these circumstances the consul thought he ought to go round and address the soldiers personally.

When he came to any who were showing reluctance to arm themselves he asked them why they were so slow and so cowardly; the enemy would come up to their camp unless they met him outside; they would have to fight to defend their tents if they refused to fight in front of their rampart.

Armed and fighting they had a chance of victory, but the men who awaited the enemy unarmed and defenceless would have to suffer either death or slavery.

To these taunts and reproaches they replied that they were exhausted with the fighting on the previous day, they had no strength or blood left, and the enemy seemed to be in greater force than ever.

Whilst this was going on the hostile army approached, and as they were now closer and could be seen more clearly the men declared that the Samnites were carrying stakes with them, and there was no doubt they intended to shut the camp in with a circumvallation.

Then the consul loudly exclaimed that it would indeed be a disgrace if they submitted to such a galling insult from so dastardly a foe. “Shall we,” he cried, “be actually blockaded in our camp to perish ignominiously by hunger rather than, if we must die, die bravely at the sword's point?

Heaven forbid! Act, every man of you, as you deem worthy of yourselves!

I, the consul, M. Atilius, will go against the enemy alone if none will follow and fall amongst the standards of the Samnites sooner than see a Roman camp hedged in by circumvallation.”

The consul's words were welcomed by all his officers, and the rank and file, ashamed to hold back any longer, slowly put themselves in fighting trim and slowly marched out of camp. They moved in a long irregular column, dejected and to all appearance thoroughly cowed, but the enemy against whom they were advancing felt no more confidence and showed no more spirit than they did.