Samnite Preparations
A mass conscription was declared throughout the Sannio region, under a new law stipulating that any young man who failed to report for roll call or left without permission would be sentenced to death without exception; shortly afterwards, an order was issued to assemble near Aquilonia. (See Figures 8, 9).
Once an army of some 40,000 men had been assembled, a large square enclosure, each side measuring about one hundred metres, was constructed in the centre of the camp using poles and bundles of twigs, and covered on the outside with linen cloths. Inside it, a sacrifice was performed in accordance with the instructions of an ancient linen book, by an elderly priest named Ovio Paccio, who claimed that these ceremonies restored a primeval Samnite rite, celebrated by their forefathers at the time when they had secretly resolved to wrest Capua from the Etruscans.
Once the sacrifice was over, the supreme commander began to summon all the warriors most distinguished by birth and personal exploits. They were escorted one by one into the enclosure, where everything was arranged to inspire religious dread: in addition to the items required for the sacrifice, the altar stood in the centre with animals slaughtered here and there, and centurions with drawn swords stood all around. The recruit was led up to the altar more as a victim than as a participant in the ceremony, and was forced to swear that he would never reveal to anyone what he had seen and heard inside. He was then compelled to utter the words of a terrible curse, destined to fall upon his own head, his family and all his descendants if he failed to go where his superiors commanded, or deserted the ranks, or failed to kill on the spot anyone else seen to do so. Some young men who at first had refused to utter that oath were slaughtered on the spot, and their bodies, cast among the carcasses of the animals, served as a warning to the others who came in turn, so that they would not refuse.
After the oath, the supreme commander called out ten names, and these men were ordered to each choose a companion, and so on, until the number of 16,000 was reached. This legion was called the Linteata after the covering of the enclosure, and its members were issued with conspicuous weapons and crested helmets, so that they would tower above all others. (See Figures 10, 11).
The remaining forces, numbering more than 20,000 men, were in no way inferior in terms of physical prowess, military glory or armour.
Preparations in Rome
The consul Spurius Carvilius Maximus set out from Rome first, having been assigned the legions that Marcus Attilius, the consul of the previous year, had left in the territory of Interamna. With these, he proceeded to the Sannio region and, as the enemies were still engaged in secret gatherings for their superstitious rites, he seized the town of Amiterno by force from the Samnites, inflicting some 2,800 casualties and taking 4,270 prisoners.
Meanwhile, his colleague Papirius raised a new army in accordance with the Senate’s order, and went to capture the city of Duronia, where there were fewer prisoners than at Carvilio, and slightly more dead, and in both cities the spoils were extremely rich.
Thereupon the two consuls joined forces and, after conducting an extensive search throughout the Sannio region and ravaging the countryside around Atina, Papirius went to set up camp near Aquilonia, where the Samnites’ headquarters and main force were located, and Carvilius near Cominium. (See Figure 12).
In the early days there were no major operations, but neither did they sit idly by. If the enemy did not take the initiative, the Romans would provoke him, quick to withdraw if he launched a counter-attack, and so time passed, with the threat of battle hanging in the air rather than the battle itself taking place. Meanwhile, whatever initiative was taken or abandoned, however minor, was reported daily from one camp to the other, which were some thirty kilometres apart, and so the advice of the distant colleague also benefited the actions of the other side. However, Carvilio’s plan was all the more present in Aquilonia than in Cominio, in proportion to the greater stakes in that sector.
When Papirius had completed all the preparations, he sent word to his colleague that he intended to attack the enemy the following day if the omens were favourable, and therefore it was necessary for him too to assault Cominius’s fortress with the utmost ferocity, so as to give the enemy no respite and prevent him from sending reinforcements to Aquilonia. The messenger made the outward journey by day and the return journey by night, bearing the reply that Carvilio was in full agreement. As soon as the messenger had been sent, Papirio had addressed his army, dwelling on the subject of war in general, and on the enemy’s current manoeuvres, which were more for show than of any real use in achieving a successful outcome: It is not the crests that cause the wounds, and our javelins will pierce through the colourful and gilded shields. (See Figure 13).
When the fighting turns to hand-to-hand combat, the gleaming ranks of white armour will all be stained with blood. At Longula, my father wrought a terrible slaughter upon the Samnite army clad in gold and silver, and the spoils brought back were more glorious to the victor than those weapons had been to the enemy. And it is the destiny of our family and our name to lead the army against the Samnites’ greatest efforts, and to bring back spoils so rich as to stand out even in the decoration of public buildings. The immortal gods are present here, filled with wrath against the Samnites because of the treaties so often requested and just as often betrayed, and, if it is possible to speculate on the divine mind, they have never been so ill-disposed as they are now towards an army which, has stained itself with the blood of men and animals in a sacrilegious rite, thereby incurring divine wrath once more, and, terrified by the presence of the gods who are the guarantors of the treaties made with us Romans, and by the curses of an oath sworn against these very treaties, has sworn against his will, hates the oath, and fears at the same time the gods, his comrades-in-arms and his enemies.
When Papirius had finished recounting all these details he had learnt from the Samnite deserters, the soldiers—who were already filled with indignation towards the enemy and were now also filled with both divine and human hope—cried out in unison for an attack, unable to wait until the following day.
After midnight, having already received Carvilio’s reply, Papirius rose in great secrecy and went to tell Pullario to cast the auspices. However, both he and his aides had become aware of the fighting fever that had gripped the army, from the highest-ranking officer to the lowest, and so, although the chickens had refused to eat, he had no qualms about concealing the truth, and sent word to the consul that the most favourable form of auspice had occurred, namely that the chickens had eaten so greedily that the food had fallen to the ground from their beaks. The enthusiastic consul had it announced that the omens were most favourable and that the action was willed by the gods, and without further ado, he gave the order to raise the signal for battle.
Just as he was leaving the tent to take to the field, a deserter came to tell him that twenty Samnite cohorts, each numbering 400 men, had set out for Cominium. He immediately sent word of this to his colleague, and for his part sought to pre-empt the attack, having previously deployed the auxiliary forces with their commanders in suitable positions.
He placed Lieutenant Lucius Volumnius in command of the left wing, Lucius Scipio in command of the right, and Caecilius and Trebonius in command of the cavalry. He instructed Spurius Nautius to hurry with three alar cohorts to hide the mules without their packs behind a visible hill, and to stand ready to reappear at the height of the battle, raising as much dust as possible. (See Figure 14).
Whilst Papirius was busy organising the battle, a lively discussion broke out among the soldiers regarding that morning’s omens. Their words were overheard by the Roman knights, who, considering the matter far too important to be ignored, informed Spurio Papirio, the son of the consul’s brother, that there were conflicting reports regarding the omens. The young man, who had been born before the spread of Epicurean unbelief, made a thorough enquiry, and then went to report to his uncle how things really stood. The consul replied: You deserve every praise for your conscientiousness and diligence. However, it is the one who interprets the omens who, if he misrepresents one thing for another, bears the full brunt of the blame. For my part, I have received the official announcement that there was jubilation, which is to say the best possible omen for the Roman people and their army. Having said that, he ordered the centurions to place the pullari in the front line. At that moment, the Samnites also advanced in their gleaming armour, putting on a show for the Romans themselves. Before the battle cry had been raised and the fighting had begun, a javelin—thrown from who knows where or by whom—wounded the pullario, who fell before the standard. Upon hearing this, the consul exclaimed: ‘The gods are with us. The culprit has received the punishment he deserved, and, as he uttered these words, the cry of a raven rang out. Papirius rejoiced at the omen, and declaring that never had any human endeavour been more favoured by the gods, he ordered the trumpets to sound and the battle cry to be raised.