# Lays of Ancient Rome/The Battle of the Lake Regillus

The Battle of Lake Regillus was a legendary early Roman victory, won over either the Etruscans or the Latin League. It has been dated at various years, including 509 BC, 496 BC and 493 BC. The battle may be entirely legendary, due to the scarcity of records from this early date in Roman history.
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The Battle of the Lake Regillus
A Lay Sung at the Feast of Castor and Pollux on the Ides of Quintilis in the year of the City CCCCLI.
 I
 Ho, trumpets, sound a war-note!  Ho, lictors, clear the way!  The Knights will ride, in all their pride,  Along the streets to-day.  To-day the doors and windows  Are hung with garlands all,  From Castor in the Forum,  To Mars without the wall.  Each Knight is robed in purple,  With olive each is crowned;  A gallant war-horse under each  Paws haughtily the ground.  While flows the Yellow River,  While stands the Sacred Hill,  The proud Ides of Quintilis  Shall have such honor still.  Gay are the Martian Kalends,  December's Nones are gay,  But the proud Ides, when the squadron rides,  Shall be Rome's whitest day.
 II
 Unto the Great Twin Brethren  We keep this solemn feast.  Swift, swift, the Great Twin Brethren  Came spurring from the east.  They came o'er wild Parthenius  Tossing in waves of pine,  O'er Cirrha's dome, o'er Adria's foam,  O'er purple Apennine,  From where with flutes and dances  Their ancient mansion rings,  In lordly Lacedæmon,  The City of two kings,  To where, by Lake Regillus,  Under the Porcian height,  All in the lands of Tusculum,  Was fought the glorious fight.
 III
 Now on the place of slaughter  Are cots and sheepfolds seen,  And rows of vines, and fields of wheat,  And apple-orchards green;  The swine crush the big acorns  That fall from Corne's oaks.  Upon the turf by the Fair Fount  The reaper's pottage smokes.  The fisher baits his angle;  The hunter twangs his bow;  Little they think on those strong limbs  That moulder deep below.  Little they think how sternly  That day the trumpets pealed;  How in the slippery swamp of blood  Warrior and war-horse reeled;  How wolves came with fierce gallops,  And crows on eager wings,  To tear the flesh of captains,  And peck the eyes of kings;  How thick the dead lay scattered  Under the Porcian height;  How through the gates of Tusculum  Raved the wild stream of flight;  And how the Lake Regillus  Bubbled with crimson foam,  What time the Thirty Cities  Came forth to war with Rome.
 IV
 But Roman, when thou standest  Upon that holy ground,  Look thou with heed on the dark rock  That girds the dark lake round.  So shalt thou see a hoof-mark  Stamped deep into the flint:  It was not hoof of mortal steed  That made so strange a dint:  There to the Great Twin Brethren  Vow thou thy vows, and pray  That they, in tempest and in flight,  Will keep thy head alway.
 V
 Since last the Great Twin Brethren  Of mortal eyes were seen,  Have years gone by an hundred  And fourscore and thirteen.  That summer a Virginius  Was Consul first in place;  The second was stout Aulus,  Of the Posthumian race.  The Herald of the Latines  From Gabii came in state:  The Herald of the Latines  Passed through Rome's Eastern Gate:  The Herald of the Latines  Did in our Forum stand;  And there he did his office,  A sceptre in his hand.
 VI
 "Hear, Senators and people  Of the good town of Rome,  The Thirty Cities charge you  To bring the Tarquins home:  And if ye still be stubborn  To work the Tarquins wrong,  The Thirty Cities warn you,  Look your walls be strong."
 VII
 Then spake the Consul Aulus,  He spake a bitter jest:  "Once the jays sent a message  Unto the eagle's nest:—  Now yield thou up thine eyrie  Unto the carrion-kite,  Or come forth valiantly, and face  The jays in deadly fight.—  Forth looked in wrath the eagle;  And carrion-kite and jay,  Soon as they saw his beak and claw,  Fled screaming far away."
 VIII
 The Herald of the Latines  Hath hied him back in state:  The Fathers of the City  Are met in high debate.  Then spake the elder Consul,  An ancient man and wise:  "Now harken, Conscript Fathers,  To that which I advise.  In seasons of great peril  'Tis good that one bear sway;  Then choose we a Dictator,  Whom all men shall obey.  Camerium knows how deeply  The sword of Aulus bites,  And all our city calls him  The man of seventy fights.  Then let him be Dictator  For six months and no more,  And have a Master of the Knights,  And axes twenty-four."
 IX
 So Aulus was Dictator,  The man of seventy fights;  He made Æbutius Elva  His Master of the Knights.  On the third morn thereafter,  At downing of the day,  Did Aulus and Æbutius  Set forth with their array.  Sempronius Atratinus  Was left in charge at home  With boys, and with gray-headed men,  To keep the walls of Rome.  Hard by the Lake Regillus  Our camp was pitched at night:  Eastward a mile the Latines lay,  Under the Porcian height.  Far over hill and valley  Their mighty host was spread;  And with their thousand watch-fires  The midnight sky was red.
 X
 Up rose the golden morning  Over the Porcian height,  The proud Ides of Quintilis  Marked evermore in white.  Not without secret trouble  Our bravest saw the foe;  For girt by threescore thousand spears,  The thirty standards rose.  From every warlike city  That boasts the Latian name,  Fordoomed to dogs and vultures,  That gallant army came;  From Setia's purple vineyards,  From Norba's ancient wall,  From the white streets of Tusculum,  The proudust town of all;  From where the Witch's Fortress  O'er hangs the dark-blue seas;  From the still glassy lake that sleeps  Beneath Aricia's trees—  Those trees in whose dim shadow  The ghastly priest doth reign,  The priest who slew the slayer,  And shall himself be slain;  From the drear banks of Ufens,  Where flights of marsh-fowl play,  And buffaloes lie wallowing  Through the hot summer's day;  From the gigantic watch-towers,  No work of earthly men,  Whence Cora's sentinels o'erlook  The never-ending fen;  From the Laurentian jungle,  The wild hog's reedy home;  From the green steeps whence Anio leaps  In floods of snow-white foam.
 XI
 Aricia, Cora, Norba,  Velitræ, with the might  Of Setia and of Tusculum,  Were marshalled on the right:  The leader was Mamilius,  Prince of the Latian name;  Upon his head a helmet  Of red gold shone like flame:  High on a gallant charger  Of dark-gray hue he rode;  Over his gilded armor  A vest of purple flowed,  Woven in the land of sunrise  By Syria's dark-browed daughters,  And by the sails of Carthage brought  Far o'er the southern waters.
 XII
 Lavinium and Laurentum  Had on the left their post,  With all the banners of the marsh,  And banners of the coast.  Their leader was false Sextus,  That wrought the deed of shame:  With restless pace and haggard face  To his last field he came.  Men said he saw strange visions  Which none beside might see;  And that strange sounds were in his ears  Which none might hear but he.  A woman fair and stately,  But pale as are the dead,  Oft through the watches of the night  Sat spinning by his bed.  And as she plied the distaff,  In a sweet voice and low,  She sang of great old houses,  And fights fought long ago.  So spun she, and so sang she,  Until the east was gray.  Then pointed to her bleeding breast,  And shrieked, and fled away.
 XIII
 But in the centre thickest  Were ranged the shields of foes,  And from the centre loudest  The cry of battle rose.  There Tibur marched and Pedum  Beneath proud Tarquin's rule,  And Ferentinum of the rock,  And Gabii of the pool.  There rode the Volscian succors:  There, in the dark stern ring,  The Roman exiles gathered close  Around the ancient king.  Though white as Mount Soracte,  When winter nights are long,  His beard flowed down o'er mail and belt,  His heart and hand were strong:  Under his hoary eyebrows  Still flashed forth quenchless rage:  And, if the lance shook in his gripe,  'Twas more with hate than age.  Close at his side was Titus  On an Apulian steed,  Titus, the youngest Tarquin,  Too good for such a breed.
 XIV
 Now on each side the leaders  Gave signal for the charge;  And on each side the footmen  Strode on with lance and targe;  And on each side the horsemen  Struck their spurs deep in gore,  And front to front the armies  Met with a mighty roar:  And under that great battle  The earth with blood was red;  And, like the Pomptine fog at morn,  The dust hung overhead;  And louder still and louder  Rose from the darkened field  The braying of the war-horns,  The clang of sword and shield,  The rush of squadrons sweeping  Like whirlwinds o'er the plain,  The shouting of the slayers,  And screeching of the slain.
 XV
 False Sextus rode out foremost,  His look was high and bold;  His corslet was of bison's hide,  Plated with steel and gold.  As glares the famished eagle  From the Digentian rock  On a choice lamb that bounds alone  Before Bandusia's flock,  Herminius glared on Sextus,  And came with eagle speed,  Herminius on black Auster,  Brave champion on brave steed;  In his right hand the broadsword  That kept the bridge so well,  And on his helm the crown he won  When proud Fidenæ fell.  Woe to the maid whose lover  Shall cross his path to-day!  False Sextus saw, and trembled,  And turned, and fled away.  As turns, as flies, the woodman  In the Calabrian brake,  When through the reeds gleams the round eye  Of that fell speckled snake;  So turned, so fled, false Sextus,  And hid him in the rear,  Behind the dark Lavinian ranks,  Bristling with crest and spear.
 XVI
 But far to the north Æbutius,  The Master of the Knights,  Gave Tubero of Norba  To feed the Porcian kites.  Next under those red horse-hoofs  Flaccus of Setia lay;  Better had he been pruning  Among his elms that day.  Mamilus saw the slaughter,  And tossed his golden crest,  And towards the Master of the Knights  Through the thick battle pressed.  Æbutius smote Mamilius  So fiercely on the shield  That the great lord of Tusculum  Well-nigh rolled on the field.  Mamilius smote Æbutius,  With a good aim and true,  Just where the next and shoulder join,  And pierced him through and through;  And brave Æbutius Elva  Fell swooning to the ground:  But a thick wall of bucklers  Encompassed him around.  His clients from the battle  Bare him some little space,  And filled a helm from the dark lake,  And bathed his brow and face;  And when at last he opened  His swimming eyes to light,  Men say, the earliest words he spake  Was, "Friends, how goes the fight?".
 XVII
 But meanwhile in the centre  Great deeds of arms were wrought;  There Aulus the Dictator  And there Valerius fought.  Aulus with his good broadsword  A bloody passage cleared  To where, amidst the thickest foes,  He saw the long white beard.  Flat lighted that good broadsword  Upon proud Tarquin's head.  He dropped the lance: he dropped the reins:  He fell as fall the dead.  Down Aulus springs to slay him,  With eyes like coals of fire;  But faster Titus hath sprung down,  And hath bestrode his sire.  Latian captains, Roman knights,  Fast down to earth they spring,  And hand to hand they fight on foot  Around the ancient king.  First Titus gave tall Cæso  A death wound in the face;  Tall Cæso was the bravest man  Of the brave Fabian race:  Aulus slew Rex of Gabii,  The priest of Juno's shrine;  Valerius smote down Julius,  Of Rome's great Julian line;  Julius, who left his mansion,  High on the Velian hill,  And through all turns of weal and woe  Followed proud Tarquin still.  Now right across proud Tarquin  A corpse was Julius laid;  And Titus groaned with rage and grief,  And at Valerius made.  Valerius struck at Titus,  And lopped off half his crest;  But Titus stabbed Valerius  A span deep in the breast.  Like a mast snapped by the tempest,  Valerius reeled and fell.  Ah! woe is me for the good house  That loves the people well!  Then shouted loud the Latines;  And with one rush they bore  The struggling Romans backward  Three lances' length and more:  And up they took proud Tarquin,  And laid him on a shield,  And four strong yeomen bare him,  Still senseless, from the field.
 XVIII
 But fiercer grew the fighting  Around Valerius dead;  For Titus dragged him by the foot  And Aulus by the head.  "On, Latines, on!" quoth Titus,  "See how the rebels fly!"  "Romans, stand firm!" quoth Aulus,  "And win this fight or die!  They must not give Valerius  To raven and to kite;  For aye Valerius loathed the wrong,  And aye upheld the right:  And for your wives and babies  In the front rank he fell.  Now play the men for the good house  That loves the people well!"
 XIX
 Then tenfold round the body  The roar of battle rose,  Like the roar of a burning forest,  When a strong north wind blows,  Now backward, and now forward,  Rocked furiously the fray,  Till none could see Valerius,  And none wist where he lay.  For shivered arms and ensigns  Were heaped there in a mound,  And corpses stiff, and dying men  That writhed and gnawed the ground;  And wounded horses kicking,  And snorting purple foam:  Right well did such a couch befit  A Consular of Rome.
 XX
 But north looked the Dictator;  North looked he long and hard,  And spake to Caius Cossus,  The Captain of his Guard;  "Caius, of all the Romans  Thou hast the keenest sight,  Say, what through yonder storm of dust  Comes from the Latian right;"
 XXI
 Then answered Caius Cossus:  "I see an evil sight;  The banner of proud Tusculum  Comes from the Latian right;  I see the pluméd horsemen;  And far before the rest  I see the dark-gray charger,  I see the purple vest;  I see the golden helmet  That shines far off like flame;  So ever rides Mamilius,  Prince of the Latian name."
 XXII
 "Now hearken, Caius Cossus:  Spring on thy horse's back;  Ride as the wolves of Apennine  Were all upon thy track;  Haste to our southward battle:  And never draw thy rein  Until thou find Herminius,  And bid hime come amain."
 XXIII
 So Aulus spake, and turned him  Again to that fierce strife;  And Caius Cossus mounted,  And rode for death and life.  Loud clanged beneath his horse-hoofs  The helmets of the dead,  And many a curdling pool of blood  Splashed him heel to head.  So came he far to southward,  Where fought the Roman host,  Against the banners of the marsh  And banners of the coast.  Like corn before the sickle  The stout Laninians fell,  Beneath the edge of the true sword  That kept the bridge so well.
 XXIV
 "Herminius! Aulus greets thee;  He bids thee come with speed,  To help our central battle,  For sore is there our need;  There wars the youngest Tarquin,  And there the Crest of Flame,  The Tusculan Mamilius,  Prince of the Latian name.  Valerius hath fallen fighting  In front of our array;  And Aulus of the seventy fields  Alone upholds the day."
 XXV
 Herminius beat his bosom:  But never a word he spake.  He clapped his hand on Auster's mane,  He gave the reins a shake.  Away, away, went Auster,  Like an arrow from the bow:  Black Auster was the fleetest steed  From Aufidus to Po.
 XXVI
 Right glad were all the Romans  Who, in that hour of dread,  Against great odds bare up the war  Around Valerius dead,  When from the south the cheering  Rose with a mighty swell;  "Herminius comes, Herminius,  Who kept the bridge so well!"
 XXVII
 Mamilius spied Herminius,  And dashed across the way.  "Herminius! I have sought thee  Through many a bloody day.  One of us two, Herminius,  Shall never more go home.  I will lay on for Tusculum,  And lay thou on for Rome!"
 XXVIII
 All round them paused the battle,  While met in mortal fray  The Roman and the Tusculan,  The horses black and gray.  Herminius smote Mamilius  Through breast-plate and through breast,  And fast flowed out the purple blood  Over the purple vest.  Mamilius smote Herminius  Through head-piece and through head,  And side by side those chiefs of pride,  Together fell down dead.  Down fell they dead together  In a great lake of gore;  And still stood all who saw them fall  While men might count a score.
 XXIX
 Fast, fast, with heels wild spurning,  The dark-gray charger fled:  He burst through ranks of fighting men,  He sprang o'er heaps of dead.  His bridle far out-streaming,  His flanks all blood and foam,  He sought the southern mountains,  The mountains of his home.  The pass was steep and rugged,  The wolves they howled and whined;  But he ran like a whirlwind up the pass,  And he left the wolves behind.  Through many a startled hamlet  Thundered his flying feet;  He rushed through the gate of Tusculum,  He rushed up the long white street;  He rushed by tower and temple,  And paused not from his race  Till he stood before his master's door  In the stately market-place.  And straightway round him gathered  A pale and trembling crowd,  And when they knew him, cries of rage  Brake forth, and wailing loud:  And women rent their tresses  For their great prince's fall;  And old men girt on their old swords,  And went to man the wall.
 XXX
 But, like a graven image,  Black Auster kept his place,  And ever wistfully he looked  Into his master's face.  The raven-mane that daily,  With pats and fond caresses,  The young Herminia washed and combed,  And twined in even tresses,  And decked with colored ribbons  From her own gay attire,  Hung sadly o'er her father's corpse  In carnage and in mire.  Forth with a shout sprang Titus,  And seized black Auster's rein.  Then Aulus sware a fearful oath,  And ran at him amain.  "The furies of thy brother  With me and mine abide,  If one of your accursed house  Upon black Auster ride!"  As on a Alpine watch-tower  From heaven comes down the flame,  Full on the neck of Titus  The blade of Aulus came:  And out the red blood spouted,  In a wide arch and tall,  As spouts a fountain in the court  Of some rich Capuan's hall.  The knees of all the Latines  Were loosened with dismay,  When dead, on dead Herminius,  The bravest Tarquin lay.
 XXXI
 And Aulus the Dictator  Stroked Auster's raven mane,  With heed he looked unto the girths,  With heed unto the rein.  "Now bear me well, black Auster,  Into yon thick array;  And thou and I will have revenge  For thy good lord this day."
 XXXII
 So spake he; and was buckling  Tighter black Auster's band,  When he was aware of a princely pair  That rode at his right hand.  So like they were, no mortal  Might one from other know:  White as snow their armor was:  Their steeds were white as snow.  Never on earthly anvil  Did such rare armor gleam;  And never did such gallant steeds  Drink of an earthly stream.
 XXXIII
 And all who saw them trembled,  And pale grew every cheek;  And Aulus the Dictator  Scarce gathered voice to speak.  "Say by what name men call you?  What city is your home?  And wherefore ride ye in such guise  Before the ranks of Rome?"
 XXXIV
 "By many names men call us;  In many lands we dwell:  Well Samothracia knows us;  Cyrene knows us well.  Our house in gay Tarentum  Is hung each morn with flowers:  High o'er the masts of Syracuse  Our marble portal towers;  But by the proud Eurotas  Is our dear native home;  And for the right we come to fight  Before the ranks of Rome."
 XXXV
 So answered those strange horsemen,  And each couched low his spear;  And forthwith all the ranks of Rome  Were bold, and of good cheer:  And on the thirty armies  Came wonder and affright,  And Ardea wavered on the left,  And Cora on the right.  "Rome to the charge!" cried Aulus;  "The foe begins to yield!  Charge for the hearth of Vesta!  Charge for the Golden Shield!  Let no man stop to plunder,  But slay, and slay, and slay;  The gods who live forever  Are on our side to-day."
 XXXVI
 Then the fierce trumpet-flourish  From earth to heaven arose,  The kites know well the long stern swell  That bids the Romans close.  Then the good sword of Aulus  Was lifted up to slay;  Then, like a crag down Apennine,  Rushed Auster through the fray.  But under those strange horsemen  Still thicker lay the slain;  And after those strange horses  Black Auster toiled in vain.  Behind them Rome's long battle  Came rolling on the foe,  Ensigns dancing wild above,  Blades all in line below.  So comes the Po in flood-time  Upon the Celtic plain;  So comes the squall, blacker than night,  Upon the Adrian main.  Now, by our Sire Quirinus,  It was a goodly sight  To see the thirty standards  Swept down the tide of flight.  So flies the spray of Adria  When the black squall doth blow  So corn-sheaves in the flood-time  Spin down the whirling Po.  False Sextus to the mountains  Turned first his horse's head;  And fast fled Ferentinum,  And fast Lanuvium fled.  The horsemen of Nomentus  Spurred hard out of the fray;  The footmen of Velitræ  Threw shield and spear away.  And underfoot was trampled,  Amidst the mud and gore,  The banner of proud Tusculum,  That never stooped before:  And down went Flavius Faustus,  Who led his stately ranks  From where the apple blossoms wave  On Anio's echoing banks,  And Tullus of Arpinum,  Chief of the Volscian aids,  And Metius with the long fair curls,  The love of Anxur's maids,  And the white head of Vulso,  The great Arician seer,  And Nepos of Laurentum  The hunter of the deer;  And in the back false Sextus  Felt the good Roman steel,  And wriggling in the dust he died,  Like a worm beneath the wheel:  And fliers and pursuers  Were mingled in a mass;  And far away the battle  Went roaring through the pass.
 XXXVII
 Semponius Atratinus  Sat in the Eastern Gate,  Beside him were three Fathers,  Each in his chair of state;  Fabius, whose nine stout grandsons  That day were in the field,  And Manlius, eldest of the Twelve  Who keep the Golden Shield;  And Sergius, the High Pontiff,  For wisdom far renowned;  In all Etruria's colleges  Was no such Pontiff found.  And all around the portal,  And high above the wall,  Stood a great throng of people,  But sad and silent all;  Young lads and stooping elders  That might not bear the mail,  Matrons with lips that quivered,  And maids with faces pale.  Since the first gleam of daylight,  Sempronius had not ceased  To listen for the rushing  Of horse-hoofs from the east.  The mist of eve was rising,  The sun was hastening down,  When he was aware of a princely pair  Fast pricking towards the town.  So like they were, man never  Saw twins so like before;  Red with gore their armor was,  Their steeds were red with gore.
 XXXVIII
 "Hail to the great Asylum!  Hail to the hill-tops seven!  Hail to the fire that burns for aye,  And the shield that fell from heaven!  This day, by Lake Regillus,  Under the Porcian height,  All in the lands of Tusculum  Was fought a glorious fight.  Tomorrow your Dictator  Shall bring in triumph home  The spoils of thirty cities  To deck the shrines of Rome!"
 XXXIX
 Then burst from that great concourse  A shout that shook the towers,  And some ran north, and some ran south,  Crying, "The day is ours!"  But on rode these strange horsemen,  With slow and lordly pace;  And none who saw their bearing  Durst ask their name or race.  On rode they to the Forum,  While laurel-boughs and flowers,  From house-tops and from windows,  Fell on their crests in showers.  When they drew nigh to Vesta,  They vaulted down amain,  And washed their horses in the well  That springs by Vesta's fane.  And straight again they mounted,  And rode to Vesta's door;  Then, like a blast, away they passed,  And no man saw them more.
 XL
 And all the people trembled,  And pale grew every cheek;  And Sergius the High Pontiff  Alone found voice to speak:  "The gods who live forever  Have fought for Rome to-day!  These be the Great Twin Brethren  To whom the Dorians pray.  Back comes the chief in triumph,  Who, in the hour of fight,  Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren  In harness on his right.  Safe comes the ship to haven,  Through billows and through gales,  If once the Great Twin Brethren  Sit shining on the sails.  Wherefore they washed their horses  In Vesta's holy well,  Wherefore they rode to Vesta's door,  I know, but may not tell.  Here, hard by Vesta's temple,  Build we a stately dome  Unto the Great Twin Brethren  Who fought so well for Rome.  And when the months returning  Bring back this day of fight,  The proud Ides of Quintilis,  Marked evermore with white,  Unto the Great Twin Brethren  Let all the people throng,  With chaplets and with offerings,  With music and with song;  And let the doors and windows  Be hung with garlands all,  And let the knights be summoned  To Mars without the wall:  Thence let them ride in purple  With joyous trumpet-sound,  Each mounted on his war-horse,  And each with olive crowned;  And pass in solemn order  Before the sacred dome,  Where dwell the Great Twin Brethren  Who fought so well for Rome."
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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