and particularly by the opposition which the regal
form of government retained or restored by the Veientes
encountered from the aristocratic governments of the
other cities. Had the Etruscan nation been able
or willing to take part in the conflict, the Roman
community would hardly have been able —undeveloped
as was the art of besieging at that time—to
accomplish the gigantic task of subduing a large and
strong city. But isolated and forsaken as Veii
was, it succumbed (358) after a valiant resistance
to the persevering and heroic spirit of Marcus Furius
Camillus, who first opened up to his countrymen the
brilliant and perilous career of foreign conquest.
The joy which this great success excited in Rome
had its echo in the Roman custom, continued down to
a late age, of concluding the festal games with a
“sale of Veientes,” at which, among the
mock spoils submitted to auction, the most wretched
old cripple who could be procured wound up the sport
in a purple mantle and ornaments of gold as “king
of the Veientes.” The city was destroyed,
and the soil was doomed to perpetual desolation.
Falerii and Capena hastened to make peace; the powerful
Volsinii, which with federal indecision had remained
quiet during the agony of Veii and took up arms after
its capture, likewise after a few years (363) consented
to peace. The statement that the two bulwarks
of the Etruscan nation, Melpum and Veii, yielded on
the same day, the former to the Celts, the latter
to the Romans, may be merely a melancholy legend;
but it at any rate involves a deep historical truth.
The double assault from the north and from the south,
and the fall of the two frontier strongholds, were
the beginning of the end of the great Etruscan nation.
The Celts Attack Rome—
Battle on the Allia—
Capture of Rome
For a moment, however, it seemed as if the two peoples,
through whose co-operation Etruria saw her very existence
put in jeopardy, were about to destroy each other,
and the reviving power of Rome was to be trodden under
foot by foreign barbarians. This turn of things,
so contrary to what might naturally have been expected,
the Romans brought upon themselves by their own arrogance
and shortsightedness.
The Celtic swarms, which had crossed the river after
the fall of Melpum, rapidly overflowed northern Italy—not
merely the open country on the right bank of the Po
and along the shore of the Adriatic, but also Etruria
proper to the south of the Apennines. A few years
afterwards (363) Clusium situated in the heart of Etruria
(Chiusi, on the borders of Tuscany and the Papal State)
was besieged by the Celtic Senones; and so humbled
were the Etruscans that the Tuscan city in its straits
invoked aid from the destroyers of Veii. Perhaps
it would have been wise to grant it and to reduce
at once the Gauls by arms, and the Etruscans by according
to them protection, to a state of dependence on Rome;
but an intervention with aims so extensive, which