The defeat at the Trebia had not been clearly explained either by the general who wrote the despatch, or by the messenger who carried it, as they falsely represented it to have been a drawn battle; but as soon as the praetor Pomponius heard the news of this second misfortune, he assembled the people in the Forum, and said, without any roundabout apologies whatever, “Romans, we have lost a great battle, the army is destroyed, and the consul Flaminius has fallen.  Now, therefore, take counsel for your own safety.”  These words produced the same impression on the people that a gust of wind does upon the sea.  No one could calmly reflect after such a sudden downfall of their hopes.  All, however, agreed that the State required one irresponsible ruler, which the Romans call a dictatorship, and a man who would fulfil this office with fearless energy.  Such a man, they felt, was Fabius Maximus, who was sufficiently qualified for the office by his abilities and the respect which his countrymen bore him, and was moreover at that time of life when the strength of the body is fully capable of carrying out the ideas of the mind, but when courage is somewhat tempered by discretion.

IV.  As soon as the people had passed their decree, Fabius was appointed dictator,[A] and appointed Marcus Minucius his master of the horse.  First, however, he begged of the Senate to allow him the use of a horse during his campaigns.  There was an ancient law forbidding this practice, either because the main strength of the army was thought to lie in the columns of infantry, and for that reason the dictator ought to remain always with them, or else because, while in all other respects the dictator’s power is equal to that of a king, it was thought well that in this one point he should have to ask leave of the people.  Next, however, Fabius, wishing at once to show the greatness and splendour of his office, and so make the citizens more ready to obey him, appeared in public with all his twenty-four lictors at once; and when the surviving consul met him, he sent an officer to bid him dismiss his lictors, lay aside his insignia of office, and come before him as a mere private citizen.  After this he began in the best possible way, that is, by a religious ceremony, and assured the people that it was in consequence of the impiety and carelessness of their late general, not by any fault of the army, that they had been defeated.  Thus he encouraged them not to fear their enemies, but to respect the gods and render them propitious, not that he implanted any superstitious observances among them, but he confirmed their valour by piety, and took away from them all fear of the enemy by the hopes which he held out to them of divine protection.  At this time many of the holy and mysterious books, which contain secrets of great value to the State, were inspected.  These are called the Sibylline books.  One of the sentences preserved in these was said to have an evident bearing on contemporary events; what it was can only be guessed