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Discourses on Livy

Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio

By Niccolo Machiavelli

Index

BOOK ONE - THE DEVELOPMENT OF ROME’S CONSTITUTION

Preface

1–10: THE BEST FORM OF GOVERNMENT

  1. Concerning the Origin of Cities in General and of Rome in Particular
  2. How many Kinds of State(a) there are and of what Kind was that of Rome
  3. What Kind of Events gave rise in Rome to the Creation of Tribunes of the Plebs, whereby that Republic was made more Perfect
  4. That Discord between the Plebs and the Senate of Rome made this Republic both Free and Powerful
  5. Whether the Safeguarding of Liberty can be more safely entrusted to the Populace or to the Upper Class; and which has the Stronger Reason for creating Disturbances, the ‘Have-nots’ or the ‘Haves’(a)
  6. Whether in Rome such a Form of Government could have been set up as would have removed the Hostility between the Populace and the Senate
  7. How necessary Public Indictments are for the Maintenance of Liberty in a Republic
  8. Calumnies are as Injurious to Republics as Public Indictments are Useful
  9. That it is necessary to be the Sole Authority if one would constitute a Republic afresh or would reform it thoroughly regardless of its Ancient Institutions
  10. Those who set up a Tyranny are no less Blameworthy than are the Founders of a Republic or a Kingdom Praiseworthy

11–15: RELIGION

  1. Concerning the Religion of the Romans
  2. How Important it is to take Account of Religion, and how Italy has been ruined for lack of it, thanks to the Roman Church
  3. What Use the Romans made of Religion in reorganizing the City, in prosecuting their Enterprises, and in composing Tumults
  4. The Romans interpreted their Auspices in accordance with their Needs, were wise enough ostensibly to observe Religion when forced to ignore it, and punished those who were so rash as to disparage it
  5. The Samnites had recourse to Religion as a last Resort when their Affairs were going badly

16–18: THE TRANSITION FROM SERVITUDE TO FREEDOM

  1. A People accustomed to live under a Prince, should they by some Eventuality become free, will with Difficulty maintain their Freedom
  2. A Corrupted People, having acquired Liberty, can maintain it only with the Greatest Difficulty
  3. How in Corrupt Cities a Free Government can be maintained where it exists, or be established where it does not exist

19–24: SUNDRY REFLECTIONS ON THE KINGS OF ROME

  1. A Weak Prince who succeeds an Outstanding Prince can hold his own, but a Weak Prince who succeeds another Weak Prince cannot hold any Kingdom
  2. Two Virtuous Princes, of whom one immediately succeeds the other, do Great Things and, as in Well-ordered Republics there is of necessity such a Virtuous Succession, their Acquisitions and their Increase also is great
  3. Princes and Republics which have not their own Armed Forces are highly reprehensible
  4. What is worthy of Note in the Case of the Three Roman Horatii and of the Three Alban Curiatii
  5. That One should not stake the Whole of One’s Fortune except on the Whole of One’s Forces; and that, consequently, it is frequently Harmful to defend Passes
  6. Well-ordered Republics, in assigning Rewards and Punishments, never balance one against the Other

25–27: THE INTRODUCTION OF NEW FORMS OF GOVERNMENT

  1. He who proposes to change an Old-established Form of Government in a Free City should retain at least the Shadow of its Ancient Customs
  2. In a City or Province which he has seized, a New Prince should make Everything New
  3. Very rarely do Men know how to be either Wholly Good or Wholly Bad

28–32: INGRATITUDE

  1. What made the Romans less ungrateful to their Citizens than were the Athenians?
  2. Which is the more ungrateful, a People or a Prince?
  3. What Steps should be taken by a Prince or by a Republic to avoid this Vice of Ingratitude, and what should be done by a General or by a Citizen who does not want to suffer from it
  4. Roman Generals were never punished with Extreme Severity for their Mistakes; nor yet were they ever punished for Ignorance or Bad Judgement even though it caused Harm to the Republic
  5. Neither a Republic nor a Prince should put off conferring Benefits on People until danger is at hand

33–36: THE USE AND ABUSE OF DICTATORSHIP

  1. When either within a State or against a State an Inconvenience has made Headway, the Safer Course is to temporize, not to suppress it
  2. Dictatorial Authority did Good, not Harm, to the Republic of Rome it is the Authority which Citizens arrogate to Themselves, not that granted by Free Suffrage, that is harmful to Civic Life
  3. How it came about that the Appointment of the Decemviri in Rome was harmful to that Republic in spite of their having been appointed by Free and Public Suffrage
  4. Citizens who have held Higher Posts should not disdain to accept Lower

37–39: THE ROAD TO RUIN

  1. On the Troubles to which the Agrarian Laws gave rise in Rome; and how great is the Trouble given in a Republic by passing a Law that is too Retrospective and Contravenes an Ancient Custom of the City
  2. Weak Republics suffer from Irresolution and cannot reach Decisions; and, when they do arrive at one, it is due rather to Necessity than to Choice
  3. To Different Peoples the same sort of Thing is often found to happen

40–45: SUNDRY REFLECTIONS BASED ON THE DECEMVIRATE

  1. The Appointment of the Decemvirate in Rome and what is Noteworthy about it; in which will be considered, among other Things, how such an Incident may lead either to a Republic’s Salvation or to its Subjection
  2. A Sudden Transition from Humility to Pride or from Kindness to Cruelty without Appropriate Steps in between is both Imprudent and Futile
  3. How easily Men may be Corrupted
  4. Those who fight for Glory’s Sake make Good and Faithful Soldiers
  5. A Crowd(a) is useless without a Head; nor should it first use Threats and then appeal for the Requisite Authority
  6. It is a Bad Precedent to break a New Law, especially if the Legislator himself does it; and daily to inflict Fresh Injuries on a City is most Harmful to him that governs it

46–49: THE POPULAR DEMAND FOR A SHARE IN GOVERNMENT

  1. Men pass from one Ambition to Another, and, having first striven against Ill-treatment, inflict it next upon Others
  2. Though Men make Mistakes about Things in General, they do not make Mistakes about Particulars
  3. To prevent an Official Appointment being given to a Base and Wicked Fellow, either an Exceedingly Base and Wicked Man should be put forward as a Candidate or an Exceedingly Noble and Good Man
  4. If those City-States which from the Outset have been free, as Rome was, find it difficult to formulate Laws whereby to maintain Liberty, those which have just been servile are faced with a Quasi-impossibility

50–55: THE MANAGEMENT OF THE POPULACE

  1. No One Department(a) and no One Official(b) in a State(c) should be able to hold up proceedings
  2. A Republic or a Prince should ostensibly do out of Generosity what Necessity constrains them to do
  3. The Safer and Less Scandalous Way to repress the Arrogance of One who has risen to Power in a Republic is to forestall him in the Methods he uses to come by this Power
  4. The Populace, misled by the False Appearance of Advantage, often seeks its own Ruin, and is easily moved by Splendid Hopes and Rash Promises
  5. How Great an Influence a Grave Man may have in restraining an Excited Crowd
  6. That it is very easy to manage Things in a State in which the Masses are not Corrupt; and that, where Equality exists, it is impossible to set up a Principality, and, where it does not exist, impossible to set up a Republic

56–60: THE ADVANTAGES OF POPULAR GOVERNMENT

  1. Before Great Misfortunes befall a City or a Province they are preceded by Portents or foretold by Men
  2. The Plebs United is Strong, but in Itself it is Weak
  3. The Masses{a} are more Knowing and more Constant than is a Prince
  4. What Confederations or Leagues can be trusted most; those made with a Republic or those made with a Prince
  5. That the Consulate and all Other Offices in Rome were conferred without Respect to Age

BOOK TWO - THE GROWTH OF ROME'S EMPIRE

Preface

1–5: METHODS OF EXPANSION

  1. Whether Virtue or Fortune was the Principal Cause of the Empire which Rome acquired
  2. Concerning the Kind of People the Romans had to fight, and how obstinately they defended their Freedom
  3. Rome became a Great City by ruining the Cities round about her, and by granting Foreigners Easy Access to her Honours
  4. Republics have adopted Three Methods of Expansion
  5. Changes of Religion and of Language, together with such Misfortunes as Floods or Pestilences, obliterate the Records of the Past

6–10: COLONIZATION AND WAR: ITS CAUSES AND COST

  1. How the Romans proceeded in the waging of War
  2. How much Land the Romans gave to their Colonists
  3. The Causes which lead Peoples to quit their own Country and to inundate the Lands of Others
  4. What Causes commonly give rise to Wars between Different Powers
  5. Money is not the Sinews of War, as it is commonly supposed to be

11–15: DIPLOMACY AND WAR

  1. It is not a Wise Course to make an Alliance with a Ruler whose Reputation is greater than his Strength
  2. Whether it is better, when threatened with Attack, to assume the Offensive or to await the Outbreak of War
  3. Men rise from a Low to a Great Position by Means rather of Fraud than of Force
  4. Men often make the Mistake of supposing that Pride is overcome by Humility
  5. The Decisions of Weak States are always fraught with Ambiguity, and the Slowness with which they arrive at them is Harmful

16–18: THE ARMY, ITS DISCIPLINE AND COMPONENT PARTS

  1. How far the Discipline of Troops in our Day falls short of that maintained in Days gone by
  2. In what Esteem Artillery should be held by Armies at the Present Time, and whether the Opinion universally held in its Regard is Sound
  3. That Infantry should be more highly esteemed than Cavalry is shown by the Authority of the Romans and by the Example of Ancient Military Practice

19–23: THE ADMINISTRATION OF CONQUERED TERRITORY AND OTHER PROBLEMS WHICH ADMIT OF NO MIDDLE COURSE

  1. Acquisitions made by Republics, when not well governed nor handled with the Virtue the Romans displayed, contribute to the Downfall, not to the Advancement, of such Republics
  2. On the Dangers which accrue to the Prince or the Republic that employs Auxiliary or Mercenary Troops
  3. The First Praetor the Romans sent out was to Capua, Four Hundred Years after they had first begun to make War
  4. How frequently Erroneous are the Views Men adopt in regard to Matters of Moment
  5. When Events required that the Romans should pass Judgement on Subject Peoples they avoided a Middle Course

24–27: MISTAKES OFTEN MADE IN CONNECTION WITH WAR

  1. Fortresses in General are much more Harmful than Useful
  2. To attack a Divided City in the Hope that its Divisions will facilitate the Conquest of it is Bad Policy
  3. Scorn and Abuse arouse Hatred against those who indulge in them without bringing them any Advantage
  4. Prudent Princes and Republics should be content with Victory, for, when they are not content with it, they usually lose

28–33: ROME'S DEALINGS WITH NEIGHBOURING STATES AND CITIES IN PEACE AND WAR

  1. How Dangerous it is for a Republic or a Prince not to avenge an Injury done either to the Public or to a Private Person
  2. Fortune blinds Men’s Minds when she does not wish them to obstruct her Designs
  3. Really Powerful Republics and Princes do not purchase Alliances with Money, but obtain them by means of Virtue and the Reputation of their Forces
  4. How Dangerous it is to put Confidence in Refugees
  5. On the Various Methods used by the Romans in taking Towns
  6. The Romans gave to Army Commanders Discretionary Powers

BOOK THREE - THE EXAMPLE OF ROME'S GREAT MEN

1–5: REFORM, SECURITY, AND THE ELIMINATION OF RIVALS

  1. In Order that a Religious Institution or a State should long survive it is essential that it should frequently be Restored to its original principles
  2. That it is a Very Good Notion at Times to pretend to be a Fool
  3. When Liberty has been newly acquired it is Necessary in Order to maintain it to ‘Kill the Sons of Brutus’
  4. A Prince cannot Live Securely in a Principality whilst those are Alive who have been despoiled of it
  5. What it is that causes a Hereditary Prince to lose his Kingdom

6: ON CONSPIRACIES

  1. On Conspiracies

7–9: THE NEED OF ADAPTATION TO ENVIRONMENT

  1. How it comes about that Changes from Liberty to Servitude and from Servitude to Liberty sometimes occur without Bloodshed and sometimes abound in it
  2. He who would transform a Republic should take Due Note of the Governed
  3. That it behoves one to adapt Oneself to the Times if one wants to enjoy Continued Good Fortune

10–15: SUNDRY REMARKS ON STRATEGY, TACTICS, NEW DEVICES AND DISCIPLINE

  1. That a General cannot avoid an Engagement if the Enemy is determined to force him to it at All Costs
  2. That he who has to deal with several Foes, even though he be Weaker than they are, can actually Win, provided he can sustain their First Attack
  3. That a Prudent General should make it absolutely necessary for his own Troops to Fight, but should avoid forcing the Enemy to do so
  4. Which is it best to trust, a Good General with a Weak Army or a Good Army with a Weak General?
  5. What Effects are produced by the Appearance of New Inventions in the course of a Battle and by the hearing of Unfamiliar Cries
  6. That at the Head of an Army there should be One, not Several, Commanders, and that to have a Plurality is a Nuisance

16–18: ADMINISTRATIVE POSTS

  1. Genuine Virtue counts in Difficult Times, but, when Things are going well, it is rather to those whose Popularity is due to Wealth or Parentage that Men look
  2. That to a Person to whom Offence has been given, no Administrative Post of Importance should subsequently be assigned
  3. Nothing becomes a General more than to anticipate the Enemy’s Plans

19–23: ADMINISTRATIVE METHODS: THE RIVAL CLAIMS OF SEVERITY AND GOOD FELLOWSHIP

  1. Whether in controlling the Masses Considerateness is more Necessary than Punishment
  2. A Single Act of Common Humanity made a Greater Impression on the Falisci than did all the Forces of Rome
  3. How it comes about that Hannibal, whose Procedure differed radically from Scipio’s, yet produced the same Effect in Italy as Scipio did in Spain
  4. How the Severity of Manlius Torquatus and the Sociability of Valerius Corvinus won for Each the same Degree of Fame
  5. Upon what Account Camillus was banished from Rome

24–30: INTERNAL SECURITY

  1. The Prolongation of Military Commands made Rome a Servile State
  2. Concerning the Poverty of Cincinnatus and of many other Roman Citizens
  3. How Women have brought about the Downfall of States
  4. How Unity may be restored to a Divided City, and how mistaken are those who hold that to retain Possession of Cities one must needs keep them divided
  5. That a Strict Watch should be kept on the Doings of Citizens since under cover of Good Works there often arises the Beginning of Tyranny
  6. That the Faults of Peoples are due to Princes
  7. (i) It is necessary for a Citizen who proposes to use his Authority to do any Good Work in a Republic first to extinguish all Envy; and (ii) what Provisions are to be made for the Defence of a City which the Enemy is about to attack

31–35: EQUANIMITY, INSURRECTION, CONFIDENCE, ELECTIONEERING, AND THE TENDERING OF ADVICE

  1. Strong Republics and Outstanding Men retain their Equanimity and their Dignity under all Circumstances
  2. What Means some have adopted to prevent a Peace
  3. To win a Battle it is essential to inspire the Army with Confidence both in Itself and in its General
  4. What Kind of Reputation or Gossip or Opinion causes the Populace to begin to favour a Particular Citizen; and whether the Populace appoints to Offices with Greater Prudence than does a Prince
  5. What Dangers are run by one who takes the Lead in advising some Course of Action; and how much greater are the Dangers incurred when the Course of Action is Unusual

36–39: ADVICE TO GENERALS IN THE FIELD

  1. Reasons why the French have been, and still are, looked upon in the Beginning of a Battle as more than Men, and afterwards as less than Women
  2. Whether Skirmishes are Necessary before a Battle, and how, if one decides to do without them, the Presence of Fresh Enemy Troops is to be discovered
  3. What ought to be done by a General so that his Army may have Confidence in him
  4. That a General ought to be acquainted with the Lie of the Land

40–42: SALUS POPULI, SUPREMA LEX

  1. That it is a Glorious Thing to use Fraud in the Conduct of a War
  2. That one’s Country should be defended whether it entail Ignominy or Glory, and that it is Good to defend it in any way whatsoever
  3. That Promises extracted by Force ought not to be kept

43–48: FURTHER REFLECTIONS BASED ON THE SAMNITE WARS

  1. That Men who are born in the same Country display throughout the Ages much the same Characteristics
  2. Results are often obtained by Impetuosity and Daring which could never have been obtained by Ordinary Methods
  3. Whether it is the Better Course in Battle to await the Enemy’s Attack and, having held it, to take the Offensive, or to make on the Enemy a Furious Onslaught at the Start
  4. How it comes about that in a City a Family retains for a Long Time the same Customs
  5. That a Good Citizen out of Love for his Country ought to ignore Personal Affronts
  6. When an Enemy is seen to be making a Big Mistake it should be assumed that it is but an Artifice

49: THE PRESERVATION OF FREEDOM IN A REPUBLIC

  1. A Republic that would preserve its Freedom, ought daily to make Fresh Provisions to this End, and what Quintus Fabius did to earn for himself the title Maximus

Discourses on the First Ten Books of Titus Livy

Niccolò Machiavelli to Zanobi Buondelmonti and Cosimo Rucellai Greeting

I am sending you a present which, if it does not come up to the obligations I owe you, is at any rate the best that Niccolò Machiavelli is able to send you. For in it I have set down all that I know and have learnt from a long experience of, and from constantly reading about, political affairs. And since neither you nor anyone else can well expect more from me than this, you will not be disappointed that I am not sending you more. You may perhaps lament my lack of skill, should these my narratives be thin, and also errors of judgement, should I, in discussing things, have in many places made mistakes. If this be so, I know not which of us is less obliged to the other, I to you, for having forced me to write what I should never have written of my own accord, or you to me, if what I have written fails to satisfy you. Accept it, then, in the manner in which things are accepted amongst friends, by whom the intention of the giver is always more esteemed than the quality of the gift. And believe me when I say that I have in this just one consolation. It is that when I reflect on the many mistakes I may have made in other circumstances, I know that I have made no mistake at any rate in this, that I have chosen to dedicate these my discourses to you in preference to all others; both because, in doing so, I seem to be showing some gratitude for benefits received, and also because I seem in this to be departing from the usual practice of authors, which has always been to dedicate their works to some prince, and, blinded by ambition and avarice, to praise him for all his virtuous qualities when they ought to have blamed him for all manner of shameful deeds.

So, to avoid this mistake, I have chosen not those who are princes, but those who, on account of their innumerable good qualities, deserve to be; not those who might shower on me rank, honours, and riches, but those who, though unable, would like to do so. For, to judge aright, one should esteem men because they are generous, not because they have the power to be generous; and, in like manner, should admire those who know how to govern a kingdom, not those who, without knowing how, actually govern one. There are, indeed, writers who praise Hiero the Syracusan though but a private person, in preference to Perseus the Macedonian though he was a king, because Hiero to become a prince lacked but a principality, whereas the other had no kingly attribute save his kingdom. Entertain yourselves, then, with what you were anxious to get, whether it be good or bad; and, should you be so mistaken as to find my views acceptable, I shall not fail to follow this up with the rest of the history as I promised at the start. Farewell.

Book One: The Development of Rome’s Constitution

Book One, Preface

Although owing to the envy inherent in man’s nature it has always been no less dangerous to discover new ways and methods than to set off in search of new seas and unknown lands because most men are much more ready to belittle than to praise another’s actions, none the less, impelled by the natural desire I have always had to labour, regardless of anything, on that which I believe to be for the common benefit of all, I have decided to enter upon a new way, as yet untrodden by anyone else. And, even if it entails a tiresome and difficult task, it may yet reward me in that there are those who will look kindly on the purpose of these my labours. And if my poor ability, my limited experience of current affairs, my feeble knowledge of antiquity, should render my efforts imperfect and of little worth, they may none the less point the way for another of greater ability, capacity for analysis, and judgement, who will achieve my ambition; which, if it does not earn me praise, should not earn me reproaches.

When, therefore, I consider in what honour antiquity is held, and how – to cite but one instance – a bit of an old statue has fetched a high price that someone may have it by him to give honour to his house and that it may be possible for it to be copied by those who are keen on this art; and how the latter then with great industry take pains to reproduce it in all their works; and when, on the other hand, I notice that what history has to say about the highly virtuous actions performed by ancient kingdoms and republics, by their kings, their generals, their citizens, their legislators, and by others who have gone to the trouble of serving their country, is rather admired than imitated; nay, is so shunned by everybody in each little thing they do, that of the virtue of bygone days there remains no trace, it cannot but fill me at once with astonishment and grief. The more so when I see that in the civic disputes which arise between citizens and in the diseases men get, they always have recourse to decisions laid down by the ancients and to the prescriptions they drew up. For the civil law is nothing but a collection of decisions, made by jurists of old, which the jurists of today have tabulated in orderly fashion for our instruction. Nor, again, is medicine anything but a record of experiments, performed by doctors of old, upon which the doctors of our day base their prescriptions. In spite of which in constituting republics, in maintaining states, in governing kingdoms, in forming an army or conducting a war, in dealing with subjects, in extending the empire, one finds neither prince nor republic who repairs to antiquity for examples.

This is due in my opinion not so much to the weak state to which the religion of today has brought the world, or to the evil wrought in many provinces and cities of Christendom by ambition conjoined with idleness, as to the lack of a proper appreciation of history, owing to people failing to realize the significance of what they read, and to their having no taste for the delicacies it comprises. Hence it comes about that the great bulk of those who read it take pleasure in hearing of the various incidents which are contained in it, but never think of imitating them, since they hold them to be not merely difficult but impossible of imitation, as if the heaven, the sun, the elements and man had in their motion, their order, and their potency, become different from what they used to be.

Since I want to get men out of this wrong way of thinking, I have thought fit to write a commentary on all those books of Titus Livy which have not by the malignity of time had their continuity broken.1 It will comprise what I have arrived at by comparing ancient with modern events, and think necessary for the better understanding of them, so that those who read what I have to say may the more easily draw those practical lessons which one

should seek to obtain from the study of history. Though the enterprise is difficult, yet, with the help of those who have encouraged me to undertake the task, I think I can carry it out in such a way that there shall remain to another but a short road to traverse in order to reach the place assigned.

Book One, Discourses 1–10: The Best Form of Government

Book One, Discourse 1. Concerning the Origin of Cities in General and of Rome in Particular

Those who read of the origin of the city of Rome, of its legislators and of its constitution, will not be surprised that in this city such great virtue was maintained for so many centuries, and that later on there came into being the empire into which that republic developed.

Since this first discourse will deal with its origin, I would point out that all cities are built either by natives of the place in which they are built, or by people from elsewhere. The first case comes about when inhabitants, dispersed in many small communities, find that they cannot enjoy security since no one community of itself, owing to its position and to the smallness of its numbers, is strong enough to resist the onslaught of an invader, and, when the enemy arrives, there is no time for them to unite for their defence; or, if there be time, they have to abandon many of their strongholds, and thus at once fall as prey to their enemies. Hence, to escape these dangers, either of their own accord or at the suggestion of someone of greater authority among them, such communities undertake to live together in some place they have chosen in order to live more conveniently and the more easily to defend themselves.

This was the case with Athens and Venice, among many others. Athens was built under the authority of Theseus for reasons such as these by inhabitants who were dispersed; Venice by numerous peoples who had sought refuge in certain islets at the top of the Adriatic Sea that they might escape the wars which daily arose in Italy after the decline of the Roman empire owing to the arrival of a new lot of barbarians. There, without any particular person or prince to give them a constitution, they began to live as a community under laws which seemed to them appropriate for their maintenance. And this happened because of the long repose the situation afforded them in that the sea at their end had no exit and the peoples who were ravaging Italy had no ships in which to infest them. This being so, a beginning, however small, sufficed to bring them to their present greatness.

The second case occurs when a city is built by men of a foreign race. They may either be free men, or men dependent on others, as are the colonies sent out either by a republic or a prince to relieve their towns of some of the population or for the defence of newly acquired territory which they desire to hold securely and without expense. The Romans built a number of such cities, and this throughout the whole of their empire. Others have been built by a prince, not that he may dwell there, but to enhance his reputation, as the city of Alexandria was built by Alexander. And since such cities are not at the outset free, it very seldom happens that they make great progress or that of their own doing they come to be reckoned among the capitals of kingdoms.

It was thus that Florence came to be built; for – whether it was built by the soldiers of Sulla, or was built by chance by inhabitants from the hills of Fiesole who, relying on the long peace which the world enjoyed under Octavian, came to dwell in the plains above the Arno – it was built under the Roman empire, and could at the outset make no addition to its territory save such as was allowed by the courtesy of the emperor.

Free cities are those which are built by peoples who, either under a prince or of their own accord, are driven by pestilence or famine or war to abandon the land of their birth and to look for new habitations. These may be either cities they find in countries they have occupied and in which they go to dwell, as Moses did; or new cities which they build, as Aeneas did. In this case the virtue of the builder is discernible in the fortune of what was built, for the city is more or less remarkable according as he is more or less virtuous who is responsible for the start. This virtue shows itself in two ways: first in the choice of a site, and secondly in the drawing up of laws.

Since men work either of necessity or by choice, and since there is found to be greater virtue where choice has less to say to it, the question arises whether it would not be better to choose a barren place in which to build cities so that men would have to be industrious and less given to idleness, and so would be more united because, owing to the poor situation, there would be less occasion for discord; as happened in Ragusa and in many other cities built in such-like places.

Such a choice would undoubtedly be wiser and more advantageous were men content to earn their own living and not anxious to lord it over others. Since, however, security for man is impossible unless it be conjoined with power, it is necessary to avoid sterile places and for cities to be put in very fertile places where, when expansion has taken place owing to the fruitfulness of the land, it may be possible for them both to defend themselves against attack and to overcome any who stand in the way of the city’s greatness. As to the idleness which such a situation may encourage, it must be provided for by laws imposing that need to work which the situation does not impose. It is advisable here to follow the example of those wise folk who have dwelt in most beautiful and fertile lands, i.e. in such lands as tend to produce idleness and ineptitude for training in virtue of any kind, and who, in order to obviate the disasters which the idleness induced by the amenities of the land might cause, have imposed the need for training on those who were to become soldiers, and have made this training such that men there have become better soldiers than those in countries which were rough and sterile by nature.

A case in point is the kingdom of the Egyptians which, notwithstanding the amenities of the land, imposed the need to work so successfully by means of laws that it produced most excellent men, whose names, if they had not been lost in antiquity, would be even more celebrated than that of Alexander the Great, and than those of many others whose memory is still fresh. So, too, anyone who has reflected on the kingdom of the Sultan, on the discipline of the Mamelukes, and on that of their troops, before they were wiped out by Selim, the Great Turk, might have noted there the many exercises the troops underwent, and might have inferred from this how greatly they feared the idleness to which the beneficence of the country might have led if they had not obviated it by very strict laws.

I maintain, then, that it is more prudent to place a city in a fertile situation, provided its fertility is kept in due bounds by laws. When Alexander the Great was proposing to build a city that should redound to his credit, Deinocrates, the architect, came to him and suggested that he should build it on Mount Athos, for, besides being a strong place, it could be so fashioned as to give the city a human form, which would be a remarkable thing, a rare thing, and worthy of his greatness. And on what, Alexander asked, would the inhabitants live? Deinocrates replied that he had not thought of this. Whereupon Alexander laughed, and, leaving the mountain alone, built Alexandria where inhabitants would be glad to live owing to the richness of the land and to the conveniences afforded by the sea and by the Nile.

For those, then, who, having examined the question how Rome came to be built, hold that Aeneas was its first founder, it will be a city built by foreigners, but for those who prefer Romulus, it will be a city built by natives of the place. But, whichever be the case, both will recognize that it began as a free city, dependent upon no one. They will also recognize, as we shall presently point out, under what strict discipline it was placed by the laws made by Romulus, Numa, and others, and that, in consequence, neither its fertile situation, the convenience afforded by the sea, its frequent victories, nor the greatness of its empire, were for many centuries able to corrupt it, but that these laws kept it so rich in virtue that there has never been any other city or any other republic so well adorned.

Wherefore since what was done by this city, as Titus Livy records it, was done sometimes in accordance with public enactments, sometimes on the initiative of private individuals, and sometimes within the city, sometimes abroad, I shall begin by discussing such of the events due to public decrees as I shall judge to be more worthy of comment, and with the events shall conjoin their consequences to which the discourses of this first book or first part will be restricted.

Book One, Discourse 2. How many Kinds of Statea there are and of what Kind was that of Rome

I propose to dispense with a discussion of cities which from the outset have been subject to another power, and shall speak only of those which have from the outset been far removed from any kind of external servitude, but, instead, have from the start been governed in accordance with their wishes, whether as republics or principalities. As such cities have had diverse origins, so too they have had diverse laws and institutions. For either at the outset, or before very long, to some of them laws have been given by some one person at some one time, as laws were given to the Spartans by Lycurgus; whereas others have acquired them by chance and at different times as occasion arose. This was the case in Rome.

Happy indeed should we call that statea which produces a man so prudent that men can live securely under the laws which he prescribes without having to emend them. Sparta, for instance, observed its laws for more than eight hundred years without corrupting them and without any dangerous disturbance. Unhappy, on the other hand, in some degree is that city to be deemed which, not having chanced to meet with a prudent organizer, has to reorganize itself. And, of such, that is the more unhappy which is the more remote from order; and that is the more remote from order whose institutions have missed altogether the straight road which leads it to its perfect and true destiny. For it is almost impossible that states of this type should by any eventuality be set on the right road again; whereas those which, if their order is not perfect, have made a good beginning and are capable of improvement, may become perfect should something happen which provides the opportunity. It should, however, be noted that they will never introduce order without incurring danger, because few men ever welcome new laws setting up a new order in the state unless necessity makes it clear to them that there is need for such laws; and since such a necessity cannot arise without danger, the state may easily be ruined before the new order has been brought to completion. The republic of Florence bears this out, for owing to what happened at Arezzo in ’02 it was reconstituted, and owing to what happened at Prato in ’12 its constitution was destroyed.

It being now my intention to discuss what were the institutions of the city of Rome and what events conduced to its perfection, I would remark that those who have written about states(a) say that there are to be found in them one of three forms of government, called by them Principality, Aristocracy and Democracy,(b) and that those who set up a government in any particular state(c) must adopt one of them, as best suits their purpose..(2)

Others – and with better judgement many think – say that there are six types of government,(d) of which three are very bad, and three are good in themselves but easily become corrupt, so that they too must be classed as pernicious. Those that are good are the three above mentioned. Those that are bad are the other three, which depend on them, and each of them is so like the one associated with it that it easily passes from one form to the other. For Principality easily becomes Tyranny. From Aristocracy the transition to Oligarchy{e} is an easy one. Democracy{f} is without difficulty converted into Anarchy.{g} So that if anyone who is organizing a commonwealth sets up one of the three first forms of government, he sets up what will last but for a while, since there are no means whereby to prevent it passing into its contrary, on account of the likeness which in such a case virtue has to vice.

These variations of government among men are due to chance. For in the beginning of the world, when its inhabitants were few, they lived for a time scattered like the beasts. Then, with the multiplication of their offspring, they drew together and, in order the better to be able to defend themselves, began to look about for a man stronger and more courageous than the rest, made him their head, and obeyed him.

It was thus that men learned how to distinguish what is honest and good from what is pernicious and wicked, for the sight of someone injuring his benefactor evoked in them hatred and sympathy and they blamed the ungrateful and respected those who showed gratitude, well aware that the same injuries might have been done to themselves. Hence to prevent evil of this kind they took to making laws and to assigning punishments to those who contravened them. The notion of justice thus came into being.

In this way it came about that, when later on they had to choose a prince, they did not have recourse to the boldest as formerly, but to one who excelled in prudence and justice.]

But when at a yet later stage they began to make the prince hereditary instead of electing him, his heirs soon began to degenerate as compared with their ancestors, and, forsaking virtuous deeds, considered that princes have nought else to do but to surpass other men in extravagance, lasciviousness, and every other form of licentiousness. With the result that the prince came to be hated, and, since he was hated, came to be afraid, and from fear soon passed to offensive action, which quickly brought about a tyranny.

From which, before long, was begotten the source of their downfall; for tyranny gave rise to conspiracies and plots against princes, organized not by timid and weak men, but by men conspicuous for their liberality, magnanimity, wealth and ability, for such men could not stand the dishonourable life the prince was leading. The masses,a therefore, at the instigation of these powerful leaders,b took up arms against the prince, and, when he had been liquidated, submitted to the authority of those whom they looked upon as their liberators. Hence the latter, to whom the very term ‘sole head’ had become odious, formed themselves into a government. Moreover, in the beginning, mindful of what they had suffered under a tyranny, they ruled in accordance with the laws which they had made, subordinated their own convenience to the common advantage, and, both in private matters and public affairs, governed and preserved order with the utmost diligence.

But when the administration passed to their descendants who had no experience of the changeability of fortune, had not been through bad times, and instead of remaining content with the civic equality then prevailing, reverted to avarice, ambition and to seizing other men’s womenfolk, they caused government by an aristocracy to become government by an oligarchy in which civic rights were entirely disregarded; so that in a short time there came to pass in their case the same thing as happened to the tyrant, for the masses, sick of their government, were ready to help anyone who had any sort of plan for attacking their rulers; and so there soon arose someone who with the aid of the masses liquidated them.

Then, since the memory of the prince and of the injuries inflicted by him was still fresh, and since, having got rid of government by the few, they had no desire to return to that of a prince, they turned to a democratic form of government, which they organized in such a way that no sort of authority was vested either in a few powerful men or in a prince.

And, since all forms of government are to some extent respected at the outset, this democratic form of government maintained itself for a while but not for long, especially when the generation that had organized it had passed away. For anarchy quickly supervened, in which no respect was shown either for the individual or for the official, and which was such that, as everyone did what he liked, all sorts of outrages were constantly committed. The outcome was inevitable. Either at the suggestion of some good man or because this anarchy had to be got rid of somehow, principality was once again restored. And from this there was, stage by stage, a return to anarchy, by way of the transitions and for the reasons assigned.

This, then, is the cycle through which all commonwealths pass, whether they govern themselves or are governed. But rarely do they return to the same form of government, for there can scarce be a state of such vitality that it can undergo often such changes and yet remain in being. What usually happens is that, while in a state of commotion in which it lacks both counsel and strength, a state becomes subject to a neighbouring and better organized state. Were it not so, a commonwealth might go on for ever passing through these governmental transitions.

I maintain then, that all the forms of government mentioned above are far from satisfactory, the three good ones because their life is so short, the three bad ones because of their inherent malignity. Hence prudent legislators, aware of their defects, refrained from adopting as such any one of these forms, and chose instead one that shared in them all, since they thought such a government would be stronger and more stable, for if in one and the same state(a) there was principality, aristocracy and democracy each would keep watch over the other.

Lycurgus is one of those who have earned no small measure of praise for constitutions of this kind. For in the laws which he gave to Sparta, he assigned to the kings, to the aristocracy, and to the populace each its own function, and thus introduced a form of government which lasted for more than eight hundred years to his very great credit and to the tranquillity of that city. It was not so in the case of Solon, who drew up laws for Athens, for he set up merely a democratic form of government, which was so short-lived that he saw before his death the birth of a tyranny under Pisistratus; and though, forty years later, Pisistratus’ heirs were expelled, and Athens returned to liberty because it again adopted a democratic form of government in accordance with Solon’s laws, it did not retain its liberty for more than a hundred years. For, in spite of the fact that many constitutions were made whereby to restrain the arrogance of the upper classa and the licentiousness of the general public,b for which Solon had made no provision, none the less Athens had a very short life as compared with that of Sparta because with democracy Solon had not blended either princely power or that of the aristocracy.

But let us come to Rome. In spite of the fact that Rome had no Lycurgus to give it at the outset such a constitution as would ensure to it a long life of freedom, yet, owing to friction between the plebs and the senate, so many things happened that chance effected what had not been provided by a lawgiver. So that, if Rome did not get fortune’s first gift, it got its second. For her early institutions, though defective, were not on wrong lines and so might pave the way to perfection. For Romulus and the rest of the kings made many good laws quite compatible with freedom; but, because their aim was to found a kingdom, not a republic, when the city became free, it lacked many institutions essential to the preservation of liberty, which had to be provided, since they had not been provided by the kings. So, when it came to pass that its kings lost their sovereignty, for reasons and in the manner described earlier in this discourse, those who had expelled them at once appointed two consuls to take the place of the king, so that what they expelled was the title of king, not the royal power. In the republic, then, at this stage there were the consuls and the senate, so that as yet it comprised but two of the aforesaid estates,a namely, Principality and Aristocracy. It remained to find a place for Democracy. This came about when the Roman nobility became so overbearing for reasons which will be given later – that the populace rose against them, and they were constrained by the fear that they might lose all, to grant the populace a share in the government; the senate and the consuls retaining, however, sufficient authority for them to be able to maintain their position in the republic.

It was in this way that tribunes of the plebs came to be appointed, and their appointment did much to stabilize the form of government in this republic, for in its government all three estates now had a share. And so favoured was it by fortune that, though the transition from Monarchy to Aristocracy and thence to Democracy, took place by the very stages and for the very reasons laid down earlier in this discourse, none the less the granting of authority to the aristocracy did not abolish altogether the royal estate, nor was the authority of the aristocracy wholly removed when the populace was granted a share in it. On the contrary, the blending of these estates made a perfect commonwealth; and since it was friction between the plebs and the senate that brought this perfection about, in the next two chapters we shall show more fully how this came to be.

Book One, Discourse 3. What Kind of Events gave rise in Rome to the Creation of Tribunes of the Plebs, whereby that Republic was made more Perfect

All writers on politics have pointed out, and throughout history there are plenty of examples which indicate, that in constituting and legislating for a commonwealth it must needs be taken for granted that all men are wicked and that they will always give vent to the malignity that is in their minds when opportunity offers.3 That evil dispositions often do not show themselves for a time is due to a hidden cause which those fail to perceive who have had no experience of the opposite; but in time – which is said to be the father of all truth – it reveals itself.

After the expulsion of the Tarquins there appeared to be in Rome the utmost harmony between the plebs and the senate. The nobles seemed to have set aside their pride, to have become imbued with the same spirit as the populace, and to be bearable by all, even by the meanest. In this neither their deception nor the cause of it was apparent so long as the Tarquins lived; for the nobility were afraid of them and feared that, if they treated the plebs badly, it would not be friendly towards them, but would make common cause with the Tarquins, so they treated the plebs with consideration. But, no sooner were the Tarquins dead and the fears of the nobility removed, than they began to vomit forth against the plebs the poison hid in their hearts and to oppress them in every way they could.

This bears out what has been said above, namely, that men never do good unless necessity drives them to it; but when they are too free to choose and can do just as they please, confusion and disorder become everywhere rampant. Hence it is said that hunger and poverty make men industrious, and that laws make them good. There is no need of legislation so long as things work well without it, but, when such good customs break down, legislation forthwith becomes necessary. Hence when the regime of the Tarquins collapsed and the nobility were no longer kept in check by the fear of them, it became necessary to devise some new institution which should produce the same effect as the Tarquins had done in their time. Wherefore, after many disturbances, rumours, and dangers of scandal had been occasioned by the squabbles between the plebs and the nobility, for the security of the former tribunes came to be appointed, and were invested with such prerogatives and standing that henceforth they could always mediate between the plebs and the senate and curb the arrogance of the nobility.

Book One, Discourse 4. That Discord between the Plebs and the Senate of Rome made this Republic both Free and Powerful

I must not fail to discuss the tumults that broke out in Rome between the death of the Tarquins and the creation of the tribunes, nor yet to mention certain facts which militate against the view of those who allege that the republic of Rome was so tumultuous and so full of confusion that, had not good fortune and military virtue counterbalanced these defects, its condition would have been worse than that of any other republic. I by no means deny that fortune and military organization had a good deal to do with Rome’s empire, but it seems to me that this view fails to take account of the fact that where military organization is good there must needs be good order, and that rarely does it happen that good fortune does not also accompany it.

There are also other points to be observed in connection with this city. To me those who condemn the quarrels between the nobles and the plebs, seem to be cavilling at the very things that were the primary cause of Rome’s retaining her freedom, and that they pay more attention to the noise and clamour resulting from such commotions than to what resulted from them, i.e. to the good effects which they produced. Nor do they realize that in every republic there are two different dispositions, that of the populace and that of the upper class and that all legislation favourable to liberty is brought about by the clash between them.

It is easy to see that this was the consequence in Rome; for from the days of the Tarquins to those of the Gracchi, which was more than three hundred years, tumults in Rome seldom led to banishment, and very seldom to executions. One cannot, therefore, regard such tumults as harmful, nor such a republic as divided, seeing that during so long a period it did not on account of its discords send into exile more than eight or ten citizens, put very few to death, and did not on many impose fines. Nor can a republic reasonably be stigmatized in any way as disordered in which there occur such striking examples of virtue, since good examples proceed from good education, good education from good laws, and good laws in this case from those very tumults which many so inconsiderately condemn; for anyone who studies carefully their result, will not find that they occasioned any banishment or act of violence inimical to the common good, but that they led to laws and institutions whereby the liberties of the public benefited.

But, someone may object, the means used were extraordinary and almost barbaric. Look how people used to assemble and clamour against the senate, and how the senate decried the people, how men ran helter-skelter about the streets, how the shops were closed and how the plebs en masse would troop out of Rome – events which terrify, to say the least, anyone who read about them. To which I answer that every city should provide ways and means whereby the ambitions of the populace may find an outlet, especially a city which proposes to avail itself of the populace in important undertakings. The city of Rome was one of those which did provide such ways and means in that, when the populace wanted a law passed, it either behaved in some such way as we have described or it refused to enlist for the wars, so that, to placate it, it had to some extent to be satisfied.

The demands of a free populace, too, are very seldom harmful to liberty, for they are due either to the populace being oppressed or to the suspicion that it is going to be oppressed, and, should these impressions be false, a remedy is provided in the public platform on which some man of standing can get up, appeal to the crowd, and show that it is mistaken. And though, as Tully remarks, the populace may be ignorant, it is capable of grasping the truth and readily yields when a man, worthy of confidence, lays the truth before it.

Critics, therefore, should be more sparing in finding fault with the government of Rome, and should reflect that the excellent results which this republic obtained could have been brought about only by excellent causes. Hence if tumults led to the creation of the tribunes, tumults deserve the highest praise, since, besides giving the populace a share in the administration, they served as the guardian of Roman liberties, as we shall show in the next chapter.

Book One, Discourse 5. Whether the Safeguarding of Liberty can be more safely entrusted to the Populace or to the Upper Class; and which has the Stronger Reason for creating Disturbances, the ‘Have-nots’ or the ‘Haves’(a)

Those who have displayed prudence in constituting a republic have looked upon the safeguarding of liberty as one of the most essential things for which they had to provide, and according to the efficiency with which this has been done liberty has been enjoyed for a longer or a shorter time. And, since in every republic there is an upper and a lower class,(b) it may be asked into whose hands it is best to place the guardianship of liberty. By the Lacaedemonians, and in our day by Venice, it was entrusted to the nobles, but by the Romans it was entrusted to the plebs.

It is necessary, therefore, to inquire which of these republics made the better choice. If we appeal to reason arguments may be adduced in support of either thesis; but, if we ask what the result was, the answer will favour the nobility, for the freedom of Sparta and of Venice lasted longer than did that of Rome.

Let us deal first with the appeal to reason. It may be urged in support of the Roman view that the guardianship of anything should be placed in the hands of those who are less desirous of appropriating it to their own use. And unquestionably if we ask what it is the nobility are after and what it is the common people are after, it will be seen that in the former there is a great desire to dominate and in the latter merely the desire not to be dominated. Consequently the latter will be more keen on liberty since their hope of usurping dominion over others will be less than in the case of the upper class. So that if the populace be made the guardians of liberty, it is reasonable to suppose that they will take more care of it, and that, since it is impossible for them to usurp power, they will not permit others to do so.

On the other hand, the defenders of the Spartan and Venetian systems say that to place the guardianship in the hands of the powerful has two good results. First, it satisfies their ambition more, since with this stick in their hands, they play a more important part in the republic, and so should be more contented. Secondly, it prevents the restless minds of the plebs from acquiring a sense of power, which is the cause of endless squabbles and trouble in a republic, and is enough to drive the nobility to desperate measures which in course of time have disastrous results. They cite as an instance Rome itself, where, when the plebs through their tribunes got this power into their hands, they were not content with one plebeian consul, but wanted to have both. After which they demanded the censorship, the praetorship, and all the other great offices in the city. Nor did this satisfy them, but, impelled by the same mad desire, they began later on to worship any men they saw were strong enough to get the better of the nobility. Whence arose the power of Marius and Rome’s undoing. It must be confessed, then, if due weight be given to both sides, that it still remains doubtful which to select as the guardians of liberty, for it is impossible to tell which of the two dispositions we find in men is more harmful in a republic, that which seeks to maintain an established position or that which has none but seeks to acquire it.

All things considered, however, and due distinctions being made, we shall arrive in the end at this conclusion. Either you have in mind a republic that looks to founding an empire, as Rome did; or one that is content to maintain the status quo. In the first case it is necessary to do in all things as Rome did. In the second case it is possible to imitate Venice and Sparta, as will be explained in the next chapter.

Turning now to the question as to which are more harmful in a republic, the ‘have-nots’ who wish to have or the ‘haves’ who are afraid of losing what they have, I would point out that when Marcus Menenius was appointed dictator and Marcus Fulvius master of horse, both of them plebeians, in order to investigate certain conspiracies formed in Capua against Rome, the people empowered them to inquire also about those in Rome who, moved by ambition, had sought to obtain the consulship and other posts in the city by other than the accepted methods. To the nobility it looked as if the authority thus vested in the dictator was a hit at them, so they spread it about in Rome that it was not the nobles who had ambitioned these positions and used out-of-the-way means to get them, but commoners who, having neither blood nor virtue on which to rely, sought to obtain these posts by roundabout methods, and in particular they accused the dictator of this. So much weight was attached to this accusation that

Menenius, having made a speech in which he complained about the calumnies spread by the nobles, resigned the dictatorship, and submitted his actions to the judgement of the people. He defended his own case and was acquitted.

At the trial there arose considerable discussion as to whether the ‘haves’ or the ‘have-nots’ were the more ambitious, for the appetites of both might easily become the cause of no small disturbance. Actually, however, such disturbances are more often caused by the ‘haves’, since the fear of losing what they have arouses in them the same inclination we find in those who want to get more, for men are inclined to think that they cannot hold securely what they possess unless they get more at others’ expense. Furthermore, those who have great possessions can bring about changes with greater effect and greater, speed. And yet again their corrupt and grasping deportment arouses in the minds of the ‘have-nots’ the desire to have, either to revenge themselves by desporting them, or that they may again share in those riches and honours in regard to which they deem themselves to have been badly used by the other party.

Book One, Discourse 6. Whether in Rome such a Form of Government could have been set up as would have removed the Hostility between the Populace and the Senate

We have just been discussing the effects produced by the controversies between the populace and the senate. Now, since these controversies went on until the time of the Gracchi4 when they became the causes which led to the destruction of liberty, it may occur to some to ask whether Rome could have done the great things she did without the existence of such animosities. Hence it seems to me worth while to inquire whether it would have been possible to set up in Rome a form of government which would have prevented these controversies. In order to discuss this question it is necessary to consider those republics which have been free from such animosities and tumults and yet have enjoyed a long spell of liberty, to look at their governments, and to ask whether they could have been introduced into Rome.

Among ancient states Sparta is a case in point, and among modern states Venice, as I have already pointed out. Sparta set up a king and a small senate to govern it. Venice did not distinguish by different names those who took part in its government, but all who were eligible for administrative posts were classed under one head and called gentry.a This was due to chance rather than to the prudence of its legislators; for many people having retired to those sandbanks on which the city now stands and taken up their abode there for the reasons already assigned, when their numbers grew to such an extent that it became necessary for them to make laws if they were to live together, they devised a form of government. They had frequently met together to discuss the city’s affairs, so, when it seemed to them that the population was sufficient to form a body politic,b they decided that all newcomers who meant to reside there, should not take part in the government. Then, when in course of time they found that there were quite a number of inhabitants in the place who were disbarred from government, with an eye to the reputation of those who governed they called them gentlefolk and the rest commoners.

Such a form of government could arise and be maintained without tumult because, when it came into being, whoever then dwelt in Venice was admitted to the government, so that no one could complain. Nor had those who came to dwell there later on and found the form of government firmly established, either cause or opportunity to make a commotion. They had no cause because they had been deprived of nothing. They had no opportunity because the government had the whip-hand and did not employ them in matters which would enable them to acquire authority. Besides, there were not many who came later to dwell in Venice, nor were they so numerous as to upset the balance between rulers and ruled; for the number of gentlefolk5 was either equal to, or greater than, that of the newcomers. These, then, were the causes which enabled Venice to set up this form of government and to maintain it without disruption.

Sparta, as I have said, was governed by a king and by a small senate. It was able to maintain itself in this way for a long time, because in Sparta there were few inhabitants and access to outsiders desirous of coming to dwell there was forbidden. Moreover, it had adopted the laws of Lycurgus and shared in his repute, and, as these laws were observed, they removed all occasion for tumult, so that the Spartans were able to live united for a long time. The reason was that the laws of Lycurgus prescribed equality of property and insisted less on equality of rank. Poverty was shared by all alike, and the plebeians had less ambition, since offices in the city were open but to few citizens and from them the plebs were kept out; nor did it desire to have them since the nobles never ill-treated the plebs. This was due to the position assigned to the Spartan kings, for, since in this principality they were surrounded by nobles, the best way of maintaining their position was to protect the plebs from injustice. It thus came about that the plebs neither feared authority nor desired to have it, and, since they neither feared it nor desired it, there was no chance of rivalry between them and the nobility, nor any ground for disturbances, and they could live united for a long time. It was, however, mainly two things which brought this union about: (i) the smallness of Sparta’s population, which made it possible for a few to rule, and (ii) the exclusion of foreigners from the state, which gave it no chance either to become corrupt or to become so unwieldy that it could no longer be managed by the few who governed it.

All things considered, therefore, it is clear that it was necessary for Rome’s legislators to do one of two things if Rome was to remain tranquil like the aforesaid states: either to emulate the Venetians and not employ its plebs in wars, or, like the Spartans, not to admit foreigners. Rome did both these things, and, by doing so, gave to its plebs alike strength, increase and endless opportunities for commotion. On the other hand, had the government of Rome been such as to bring greater tranquillity, there would have ensued this inconvenience, that it would have been weaker, owing to its having cut off the source of supply which enabled it to acquire the greatness at which it arrived, so that, in seeking to remove the causes of tumults, Rome would have removed also the causes of expansion.

So in all human affairs one notices, if one examines them closely, that it is impossible to remove one inconvenience without another emerging. If, then, you want to have a large population and to provide it with arms so as to establish a great empire, you will have made your population such that you cannot now handle it as you please. While, if you keep it either small or unarmed so as to be able to manage it, and then acquire dominions, either you will lose your hold on it or it will become so debased that you will be at the mercy of anyone who attacks you. Hence in all discussions one should consider which alternative involves fewer inconveniences and should adopt this as the better course; for one never finds any issue that is clear cut and not open to question. Rome might indeed have emulated Sparta, have appointed a prince for life, and have made its senate small; but it would not in that case have been able to avoid increasing its population with a view to establishing a great empire; nor would the appointment of a king for life and of a small number of senators have been of much help in the matter of unity.

Should, then, anyone be about to set up a republic, he should first inquire whether it is to expand, as Rome did, both in dominion and in power, or is to be confined to narrow limits. In the first case it is essential to constitute it as Rome was constituted and to expect commotions and disputes of all kinds which must be dealt with as best they can, because without a large population, and this well armed, such a republic will never be able to grow, or to hold its own should it grow. In the second case it might be constituted as Sparta and Venice were, but, since expansion is poison to republics of this type, it should use every endeavour to prevent it from expanding, for expansion, when based on a weak republic, simply means ruin. This happened both in Sparta’s case and in that of Venice. For of these republics the first, after having subjugated almost the whole of Greece, revealed, on an occasion of slight importance in itself, how weak its foundation was, since, when Thebes revolted at the instigation of Pelopidas and other cities followed suit, this republic entirely collapsed. In like manner Venice, having occupied a large part of Italy, most of it not by dint of arms, but of money and astute diplomacy, when its strength was put to the test, lost everything in a single battle.

I am firmly convinced, therefore, that to set up a republic which is to last a long time, the way to set about it is to constitute it as Sparta and Venice were constituted; to place it in a strong position, and so to fortify it that no one will dream of taking it by a sudden assault; and, on the other hand, not to make it so large as to appear formidable to its neighbours. It should in this way be able to enjoy its form of government for a long time. For war is made on a commonwealth for two reasons: (i) to subjugate it, and (ii) for fear of being subjugated by it. Both these reasons are almost entirely removed by the aforesaid precautions; for, if it be difficult to take by assault owing to its being well organized for defence, as I am presupposing, rarely or never will it occur to anyone to seize it. And, if it be content with its own territory, and it becomes clear by experience that it has no ambitions, it will never occur that someone may make war through fear for himself, especially if by its constitution or by its laws expansion is prohibited. Nor have I the least doubt that, if this balance could be maintained, there would be genuine political life and real tranquillity in such a city.

Since, however, all human affairs are ever in a state of flux and cannot stand still, either there will be improvement or decline, and necessity will lead you to do many things which reason does not recommend. Hence if a commonwealth be constituted with a view to its maintaining the status quo, but not with a view to expansion, and by necessity it be led to expand, its basic principles will be subverted and it will soon be faced with ruin. So, too, should heaven, on the other hand, be so kind to it that it has no need to go to war, it will then come about that idleness will either render it effeminate or give rise to factions; and these two things, either in conjunction or separately, will bring about its downfall.

Wherefore, since it is impossible, so I hold, to adjust the balance so nicely as to keep things exactly to this middle course, one ought, in constituting a republic, to consider the possibility of its playing a more honourable role, and so to constitute it that, should necessity actually force it to expand, it may be able to retain possession of what it has acquired. Coming back, then, to the first point we raised, I am convinced that the Roman type of constitution should be adopted, not that of any other republic, for to find a middle way between the two extremes I do not think possible. Squabbles between the populace and the senate should, therefore, be looked upon as an inconvenience which it is necessary to put up with in order to arrive at the greatness of Rome. For, besides the reasons already adduced to show that the authority of the tribunes was essential to the preservation of liberty, it is easy to see what benefit a republic derives when there is an authority that can bring charges in court, which was among the powers vested in the tribunes, as will be shown in the following chapter.

Book One, Discourse 7. How necessary Public Indictments are for the Maintenance of Liberty in a Republic

No authority more useful and necessary can be granted to those appointed to look after the liberties of a statea than that of being able to indict before the people or some magistrate or court such citizens as have committed any offence prejudicial to the freedom of the state.b Such an institution has two consequences most useful in a republic. First, for fear of being prosecuted, its citizens attempt nothing prejudicial to the state, and, if they do attempt anything, are suppressed forthwith without respect to persons. Secondly, an outlet is provided for that all feeling which is apt to grow up in cities against some particular citizen, however it comes about; and, when for such ill feeling there is no normal outlet, recourse is had to abnormal methods likely to bring disaster on the republic as a whole. Hence nothing does so much to stabilize and strengthen a republic as some institution whereby the changeful humours which agitate it are afforded a proper outlet by way of the laws.

This can be shown by numerous examples, and especially by one that Titus Livy adduces, namely, that of Coriolanus. Livy tells us that, when the nobility were annoyed with the plebs because it seemed to them that the plebs had too much authority owing to the appointment of tribunes to protect them, and when, besides this, there was a great scarcity of provisions in Rome and the senate had to send to Sicily for corn, Coriolanus, who was hostile to the popular faction, suggested that the time had come to punish the plebs and to deprive them of the authority they had assumed to the prejudice of the nobility. Hence he advised that they should be kept hungry and that the corn should not be distributed among them. When this came to the ears of the populace, indignation against Coriolanus grew so intense that, as he was leaving the senate, he would have been killed in the tumult if the tribunes had not cited him to appear in his own defence. One notes in this incident what has been said above, namely, how useful and necessary it is for republics to provide a legal outlet for the anger which the general public has conceived against a particular citizen, because when no such normal means are available, recourse is had to abnormal means, which unquestionably have a worse effect than does the normal method.

The reason is that, though wrong may be done when a citizen is punished in the normal way, scarce any disorder, or none at all, is brought about in the republic; for in carrying out the sentence no appeal is made either to private or to foreign forces, and it is these that entail the downfall of civic liberties. On the contrary, such force as is employed, is employed by public authority which functions within specified limits, and does not, overstepping them, go on to do things which ruin the republic.

There is no need to corroborate this view by citing further examples from olden times in addition to that of Coriolanus. In his regard, however, all should reflect on the evils that might have ensued in the Roman republic had he been tumultuously put to death, for this would have given rise to private feuding, which would have aroused fear; and fear would have led to defensive action; this to the procuring of partisans; partisans would have meant the formation of factionsa in the city; and factions would have brought about its downfall. As, however, the matter was settled by persons vested with the requisite authority, no opening was provided for the evils that might have resulted had the matter been settled by private authority.

In our own times we have seen disturbances introduced into the republic of Florence owing to the inability of the masses to find a normal outlet for the animus aroused by one of its citizens – as for instance happened at the time when Francesco Valori’s standing in the city was akin to that of a prince.6 He was regarded by many as an ambitious man, likely, owing to his audacity and animosity, to resort to unconstitutional methods. As there was no way of resisting him save by forming a rival party, it came about that he began to collect supporters to defend himself since he had nothing to be afraid of unless extraordinary steps were taken. On the other hand, since to his opponents no ordinary means of suppressing him were available, they made up their minds to use other means, and eventually took up arms. Had it in this case been possible to oppose Valori by constitutional methods, an end would have been put to his authority without harm to anybody but himself; but since it had to be done by unconstitutional methods, harm resulted not only to him, but to many other noble citizens.

One might also cite in support of the conclusion just reached an incident that also happened in Florence. It concerns Piero Soderini, and was entirely due to the absence in this republic of any means whereby legal action might be taken against the ambition displayed by powerful citizens. For to indict a powerful citizen before eight judges is inadequate. There should have been plenty of judges, for the few always act as the few are wont to act. Had this been the case, the citizens would either have indicted him, if his conduct had been bad, and in this way would have found an outlet for the animosity without getting a Spanish army to intervene; or, if his conduct had not been bad, would not have dared to take action against him for fear that they themselves should be indicted. Thus in either case the appetite which occasioned the trouble would have ceased to operate.

We thus reach the conclusion that, whenever one finds outside forces called in by a party of men residing in a city, it may be taken for granted that this is due to a defect in its constitution in that it comprises no institution which provides an outlet for the malignant humours to which men are prone, without their taking unconstitutional action. Adequate provision for this is made when there are many judges before whom indictments may be made, and when judgeship is looked on as an honourable post.

Such matters were so well provided for in Rome that in the great disputes which arose between the senate and the plebs, never did either the senate, the plebs, or any private citizen, contemplate the calling in of outside forces, because, there being a remedy at home, there was no need to seek one abroad. And, though the examples already cited should suffice to prove my case, I am going to give you yet another, taken from Titus Livy’s history. In it he relates how in Clusium – in those days the most noble city in Tuscany – a sister of Aruns had been violated by Lucumon, and how Aruns, unable to obtain justice owing to the power of her ravisher, went to the Gauls who then controlled the province we now call Lombardy, and besought them to bring armed forces to Clusium, pointing out that it would be to their own advantage to avenge the injustice done to him; and how if Aruns had seen how to obtain justice by appeal to the city’s laws he would not have invoked barbarian forces. But if such indictments are of advantage to a republic, calumny is not only useless, but harmful, as we shall show in the next chapter.

Book One, Discourse 8. Calumnies are as Injurious to Republics as Public Indictments are Useful

Although the virtue of Furius Camillus, who had freed Rome from the yoke of the Gauls, had caused all the citizens of Rome to give him precedence without its appearing to them that, by so doing, they were diminishing their own repute or rank, none the less Manlius Capitolinus could not bear that so much honour and glory should be ascribed to Camillus, since it seemed to him that his own merits were as great as those of Camillus, since it was he who had saved the Capitol, nor was he inferior to Camillus in other praiseworthy military exploits.

Consequently, so fraught was he with envy, that he could not remain tranquil while Camillus had such glory, but, realizing that he could not sow discord among the patricians, he turned to the plebs and disseminated among them diverse sinister rumours. Among other things, he said that the treasure which had been collected to give to the Gauls, had not been given to them, but had been appropriated by private citizens, and that, if it could be recovered, it might be used to the advantage of the public either in lessening the taxation of the plebs or in the discharge of certain private debts. This speech had a considerable effect on the plebs, who began to hold meetings and to raise numerous tumults in the city as it pleased them. This displeased the senate, to whom it appeared to be a serious matter and dangerous, so they appointed a dictator who should take cognizance of the situation and restrain the impetuosity of Manlius. The dictator accordingly cited Manlius to appear in public, where they confronted one another, the dictator surrounded by the nobles and Manlius surrounded by plebeians. Manlius was asked to state in whose hands the treasure was of which he had spoken, for the senate was as desirous to be informed of this as was the plebs. In his reply Manlius gave no details, but evaded the issue, saying that it was unnecessary to tell them what they already knew. So the dictator sent him to prison.

It is clear from this incident in what detestation calumnies should be held in free cities and in all other forms of society, and how with a view to checking them no institution which serves this end should be neglected. Nor for their prevention can there be anything better than an institution which provides adequate facilities for charges to be brought, because indictments are as helpful to republics as calumnies are harmful. The difference between them is this. There is no need of witnesses or of any other corroboration of the facts to set calumnies going, so that anybody can be calumniated by anybody else. But one cannot in this way be indicted, for indictments must be corroborated and circumstances be adduced to prove the truth of the indictment. Indictments are made before magistrates, before the people, and before courts. Calumnies are circulated in the squares and the arcades. Calumnies are more prevalent in cities in which less use is made of public accusations, and in which less provision has been made for receiving them. He, therefore, who constitutes a republic should do it in such a way that charges may be brought against any citizen without fear of any kind and without respect to persons. Where provision for this has been made, and due recourse is had to it, calumniators should be severely punished. Nor can they complain of such punishment, since they had an opportunity to make charges openly against those whom they calumniated in private. But where adequate provision for this has not been made, there invariably ensue considerable disorders. For calumnies do not castigate citizens, they do but exasperate them; and, since hate is more quickly aroused than is fear, they think, when exasperated, how to get their own back for what has been said against them.

This eventuality, as has been said, was adequately provided for in Rome, but was ever badly provided for in our city of Florence. And, as in Rome such provision did much good, the lack of it in Florence did much harm. Anyone who reads the history of that city will notice how at all times calumnies have been spread against such of its citizens as were employed in important public affairs. Of one they said that he had embezzled the public funds; of another that he had failed in some undertaking because he had been bribed; of yet another that through ambition he had caused such and such an inconvenience. It thus came about that hatred arose on all sides; whence came divisions; from divisions factions, and from factions ruin. Whereas, if in Florence provision had been made for the accusing of citizens and for the punishment of calumniators, there would not have ensued the innumerable scandals that did ensue. For citizens, whether condemned or acquitted, would not have been able to harm the city, and there would have been fewer people indicted than there were calumniated, since, as I have said, it is not possible to bring an indictment against anyone as it is to calumniate anyone.

Calumnies, too, are among the various things of which citizens have availed themselves in order to acquire greatness, and are very effective when employed against powerful citizens who stand in the way of one’s plans, because by playing up to the populace and confirming the poor view it takes of such men, one can make it one’s friend. Of this it would be possible to adduce numerous examples, but I propose to confine myself to just one. The Florentine army was encamped about Lucca, under the command of Messer Giovanni Guicciardini, its commissary. Owing either to mismanagement or to misfortune, the taking of that city did not come about. Anyhow, whichever was the case, Messer Giovanni took the blame for it, since it was said that he had been suborned by the Lucchese. This calumny, fostered by his enemies, almost drove Messer Giovanni to utter despair. For, although, to justify himself, he offered to place himself in the hands of the ‘Captain’,7 he none the less was unable ever to justify himself, since in that republic there were no means of doing so. This gave rise to considerable indignation alike among Messer Giovanni’s friends, who comprised most people of standing, and among those who desired to introduce innovations in Florence. The affair, for this reason and others like it, grew to such dimensions that it led to the downfall of that republic.

Manlius Capitolinus, then, was a calumniator, not an accuser; and the Romans have shown us in his case precisely how calumniators should be punished. They should be made to bring a formal charge, and, when the charge is borne out by the facts, should be rewarded or at any rate not punished; but, when it is not borne out by the facts, they should be punished, as Manlius was.

Book One, Discourse 9. That it is necessary to be the Sole Authority if one would constitute a Republic afresh or would reform it thoroughly regardless of its Ancient Institutions

To some it will appear strange that I have got so far in my discussion of Roman history without having made any mention of the founders of that republic or of either its religious or its military institutions. Hence, that I may not keep the minds of those who are anxious to hear about such things any longer in suspense, let me say that many perchance will think it a bad precedent that the founder of a civic state, such as Romulus, should first have killed his brother, and then have acquiesced in the death of Titus Tatius, the Sabine, whom he had chosen as his colleague in the kingdom. They will urge that, if such actions be justifiable, ambitious citizens who are eager to govern, will follow the example of their prince and use violence against those who are opposed to their authority. A view that will hold good provided we leave out of consideration the end which Romulus had in committing these murders.

One should take it as a general rule that rarely, if ever, does it happen that a state, whether it be a republic or a kingdom, is either well-ordered at the outset or radically transformed vis-à-vis its old institutions unless this be done by one person. It is likewise essential that there should be but one person upon whose mind and method depends any similar process of organization. Wherefore the prudent organizer of a state whose intention it is to govern not in his own interests but for the common good, and not in the interest of his successors but for the sake of that fatherland which is common to all, should contrive to be alone in his authority. Nor will any reasonable man blame him for taking any action, however extraordinary, which may be of service in the organizing of a kingdom or the constituting of a republic. It is a sound maxim that reprehensible actions may be justified by their effects, and that when the effect is good, as it was in the case of Romulus, it always justifies the action. For it is the man who uses violence to spoil things, not the man who uses it to mend them, that is blameworthy.

The organizer of a state ought further to have sufficient prudence and virtue not to bequeath the authority he has assumed to any other person, for, seeing that men are more prone to evil than to good, his successor might well make ambitious use of that which he had used virtuously. Furthermore, though but one person suffices for the purpose of organization, what he has organized will not last long if it continues to rest on the shoulders of one man, but may well last if many remain in charge and many look to its maintenance. Because, though the many are incompetent to draw up a constitution since diversity of opinion will prevent them from discovering how best to do it, yet when they realize it has been done, they will not agree to abandon it.

That Romulus was a man of this character, that for the death of his brother and of his colleague he deserves to be excused, and that what he did was done for the common good and not to satisfy his personal ambition, is shown by his having at once instituted a senate with which he consulted and with whose views his decisions were in accord. Also, a careful consideration of the authority which Romulus reserved to himself will show that all he reserved to himself was the command of the army in time of war and the convoking of the senate. It is clear, too, that when the Tarquins were expelled and Rome became free, none of its ancient institutions were changed, save that in lieu of a permanent king there were appointed each year two consuls. This shows that the original institutions of this city as a whole were more in conformity with a political and self-governing state than with absolutism or tyranny.

I might adduce in support of what I have just said numberless examples, for example Moses, Lycurgus, Solon and other founders of kingdoms and republics who assumed authority that they might formulate laws to the common good; but this I propose to omit since it is well known. I shall adduce but one further example, not so celebrated but worth considering by those who are contemplating the drawing up of good laws. It is this. Agis, King of Sparta, was considering how to confine the activities of the Spartans to the limits originally set for them by the laws of Lycurgus, because it seemed to him that it was owing to their having deviated from them in part that this city had lost a good deal of its ancient virtue, and, in consequence, a good deal of its power and of its empire. He was, however, while his project was still in the initial stage, killed by the Spartan ephors, who took him to be a man who was out to set up a tyranny. But Cleomenes, his successor in that kingdom, having learned from some records and writings of Agis which he had discovered, what was the latter’s true mind and intention, determined to pursue the same plan. He realized, however, that he could not do this for the good of his country unless he became the sole authority there, and, since it seemed to him impossible owing to man’s ambition to help the many against the will of the few, he took a suitable opportunity and had all the ephors killed and anybody else who might obstruct him. He then renewed in their entirety the laws of Lycurgus. By so doing he gave fresh life to Sparta, and his reputation might thereby have become as great as that of Lycurgus if it had not been for the power of the Macedonians and the weakness of other Greek republics. For, after Sparta had thus been reorganized, it was attacked by the Macedonians, and, since its forces proved to be inferior and it could get no outside help, it was defeated, with the result that Cleomenes’ plans, however just and praiseworthy, were never brought to completion.

All things considered, therefore, I conclude that it is necessary to be the sole authority if one is to organize a state, and that Romulus’ action in regard to the death of Remus and Titus Tatius is excusable, not blameworthy.

Book One, Discourse 10. Those who set up a Tyranny are no less Blameworthy than are the Founders of a Republic or a Kingdom Praiseworthy

Of all men that are praised, those are praised most who have played the chief part in founding a religion. Next come those who have founded either republics or kingdoms. After them in the order of celebratees are ranked army commanders who have added to the extent of their own dominions or to that of their country’s. With whom may be conjoined men of letters of many different kinds who are each celebrated according to their status. Some modicum of praise is also ascribed to any man who excels in some art and in the practice of it, and of these the number is legion. On the other hand, those are held to be infamous and detestable who extirpate religion, subvert kingdoms and republics, make war on virtue, on letters, and on any art that brings advantage and honour to the human race, i.e. the profane, the violent, the ignorant, the worthless, the idle, the coward. Nor will there ever be anyone, be he foolish or wise, wicked or good, who, if called upon to choose between these two classes of men, will not praise the one that calls for praise and blame the one that calls for blame.

And yet, notwithstanding this, almost all men, deceived by the false semblance of good and the false semblance of renown, allow themselves either wilfully or ignorantly to slip into the ranks of those who deserve blame rather than praise; and, when they might have founded a republic or a kingdom to their immortal honour, turn their thoughts to tyranny, and fail to see what fame, what glory, security, tranquillity, conjoined with peace of mind, they are missing by adopting this course, and what infamy, scorn, abhorrence, danger and disquiet they are incurring.

Nor is it possible for anybody, whether he be but a private citizen living in some republic, or has been fortunate enough or virtuous enough to have become a prince, to read history and to make use of the records of ancient deeds, without preferring, if he be a private citizen, to conduct himself in his fatherland rather as Scipio did than as Caesar did, or, if he be a prince, as did Agesilaus, Timoleon and Dion, rather than as did Nabis, Phalaris and Dionysius, for he could not but see how strongly the latter are dismissed with scorn, and how highly the former are praised. He would also notice that Timoleon and the like had no less authority in their respective countries than had Dionysius or Phalaris in theirs, and would observe that they enjoyed far greater security.

Nor should anyone be deceived by Caesar’s renown when he finds writers extolling him before others, for those who praise him have either been corrupted by his fortune or overawed by the long continuance of the empire which, since it was ruled under that name, did not permit writers to speak freely of him. If, however, anyone desires to know what writers would have said, had they been free, he has but to look at what they say of Catiline.9 For Caesar is the more blameworthy of the two, in that he who has done wrong is more blameworthy than he who has but desired to do wrong. Or, again, let him look at the praise bestowed on Brutus: Caesar they could not find fault with on account of his power, so they cry up his enemy.

Let he who has become a prince in a republic consider, after Rome became an Empire, how much more praise is due to those emperors who acted, like good princes, in accordance with the laws, than to those who acted otherwise. It will be found that Titus, Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus and Marcus, had no need of soldiers to form a praetorian guard, nor of a multitude of legions to protect them, for their defence lay in their habits, the goodwill of the people, and the affection of the senate. It will be seen, too, in the case of Caligula, Nero, Vitellius and other bad emperors, how it availed them little to have armies from the East and from the West to save them from the enemies they had made by their bad habits and their evil life.

If the history of these emperors be pondered well, it should serve as a striking lesson to any prince, and should teach him to distinguish between the ways of renown and of infamy, the ways of security and of fear. For of the twenty-six emperors from Caesar to Maximinus, sixteen were assassinated and only ten died a natural death. And, if some of those who were killed were good men, as Galba and Pertinax were, their death was due to the corruption which their predecessors had introduced among the troops. While, if among those who died ordinary deaths, there was a wicked man, like Severus, it must be put down to his great good luck and to his ‘virtue’, two things of which few men enjoy both. It will be seen, too, from a perusal of their history on what principle a good kingdom should rest; for all the emperors who acquired imperial power by inheritance were bad men, with the exception of Titus; those who acquired it through adoption, were all good, like the five counting from Nerva to Marcus; and when it fell to their heirs a period of decadence again ensued.

Let a prince put before himself the period from Nerva to Marcus, and let him compare it with the preceding period and with that which came after, and then let him decide in which he would rather have been born, and during which he would have chosen to be emperor. What he will find when good princes were ruling, is a prince securely reigning among subjects no less secure, a world replete with peace and justice. He will see the senate’s authority respected, the magistrates honoured, rich citizens enjoying their wealth, nobility and virtue held in the highest esteem, and everything working smoothly and going well. He will notice, on the other hand, the absence of any rancour, any licentiousness, corruption or ambition, and that in this golden age everyone is free to hold and to defend his own opinion. He will behold, in short, the world triumphant, its prince glorious and respected by all, the people fond of him and secure under his rule.

If he then looks attentively at the times of the other emperors, he will find them distraught with wars, torn by seditions, brutal alike in peace and in war, princes frequently killed by assassins, civil wars and foreign wars constantly occurring, Italy in travail and ever a prey to fresh misfortunes, its cities demolished and pillaged. He will see Rome burnt, its Capitol demolished by its own citizens, ancient temples lying desolate, religious rites grown corrupt, adultery rampant throughout the city. He will find the sea covered with exiles and the rocks stained with blood. In Rome he will see countless atrocities perpetrated; rank, riches, the honours men have won, and, above all, virtue, looked upon as a capital crime. He will find calumniators rewarded, servants suborned to turn against their masters, freed men to turn against their patrons, and those who lack enemies attacked by their friends. He will thus happily learn how much Rome, Italy, and the world owed to Caesar.

There can be no question but that every human being will be afraid to imitate the bad times, and will be imbued with an ardent desire to emulate the good. And, should a good prince seek worldly renown, he should most certainly covet possession of a city that has become corrupt, not, with Caesar, to complete its spoliation, but, with Romulus, to reform it. Nor in very truth can the heavens afford men a better opportunity of acquiring renown; nor can men desire anything better than this. And if in order to reform a city one were obliged to give up the principate, someone who did not reform it in order not to fall from that rank would have some excuse. There is, however, no excuse if one can both keep the principate and reform the city.

In conclusion, then, let those to whom the heavens grant such opportunities reflect that two courses are open to them: either so to behave that in life they rest secure and in death become renowned, or so to behave that in life they are in continual straits, and in death leave behind an imperishable record of their infamy.

Book One, Discourses 11–15: Religion

Book One, Discourse 11. Concerning the Religion of the Romans

Though the first person to give Rome a constitution was Romulus, to whom, as a daughter, it owed its birth and its education, yet, since heaven did not deem the institutions of Romulus adequate for so great an empire, it inspired the Roman senate to choose Numa Pompilius as Romulus’s successor, so that the things which he had left undone, might be instituted by Numa. Numa, finding the people ferocious and desiring to reduce them to civic obedience by means of the arts of peace, turned to religion as the instrument necessary above all others for the maintenance of a civilized state, and so constituted it that there was never for so many centuries so great a fear of God as there was in this republic.

It was religion that facilitated whatever enterprise the senate and the great men of Rome designed to undertake. Whoever runs through the vast number of exploits performed by the people of Rome as a whole, or by many of the Romans individually, will see that its citizens were more afraid of breaking an oath than of breaking the law, since they held in higher esteem the power of God than the power of man. This is clearly seen in the case of Scipio and of Manlius Torquatus. For, after the defeat which Hannibal had inflicted on the Romans at Cannae, many of the citizens got together and, despairing of their fatherland, decided to abandon Italy and to transfer themselves to Sicily. When Scipio heard of this, he sought them out, and, sword in hand, forced them to swear that they would not abandon their country. Again, Lucius Manlius, the father of Titus Manlius, afterwards called Torquatus, had been indicted by Marcus Pomponius, the plebeian tribune. Before the case came up for trial, Titus went to Marcus, threatened to kill him if he did not swear to withdraw the charge against his father, and forced him to take an oath to this effect. Having taken the oath out of fear, Marcus withdrew the charge. Thus were those citizens whom neither love for their country nor the laws of their country sufficed to keep in Italy, kept there by an oath which they had been forced to take; and thus did a tribune set aside the hatred which he had for the father, and the injustice which the son had done him, together with his honour, for the sake of the oath he had taken. All of which was due to nothing else but the religion which Numa had introduced into that city.

It will also be seen by those who pay attention to Roman history, how much religion helped in the control of armies, in encouraging the plebs, in producing good men, and in shaming the bad. So that if it were a question of the ruler to whom Rome was more indebted, Romulus or Numa, Numa, I think, should easily obtain the first place. For, where there is religion, it is easy to teach men to use arms, but where there are arms, but no religion, it is with difficulty that it can be introduced. Thus, one sees that in establishing the senate and introducing other civic and military institutions, Romulus did not find it necessary to appeal to divine authority; but to Numa it was so necessary that he pretended to have private conferences with a nymph who advised him about the advice he should give to the people. This was because he wanted to introduce new institutions to which the city was unaccustomed, and doubted whether his own authority would suffice.

Nor in fact was there ever a legislator who, in introducing extraordinary laws to a people, did not have recourse to God, for otherwise they would not have been accepted, since many benefits of which a prudent man is aware, are not so evident to reason that he can convince others of them. Hence wise men, in order to escape this difficulty, have recourse to God. So Lycurgus did; so did Solon, and so have many others done who have had the same end in view. Marvelling, therefore, at Numa’s goodness and prudence, the Roman people accepted all his decisions. True, the times wereso impregnated with a religious spirit and the men with whom he had to deal so stupid that they contributed very much to facilitate his designs and made it easy for him to impress on them any new form. Doubtless, too, anyone seeking to establish a republic at the present time would find it easier to do so among uncultured men of the mountains than among dwellers in cities where civilization is corrupt; just as a sculptor will more easily carve a beautiful statue from rough marble than from marble already spoiled by a bungling workman.

All things considered, therefore, I conclude that the religion introduced by Numa was among the primary causes of Rome’s success, for this entailed good institutions; good institutions led to good fortune; and from good fortune arose the happy results of undertakings. And, as the observance of divine worship is the cause of greatness in republics, so the neglect of it is the cause of their ruin. Because, where the fear of God is wanting, it comes about either that a kingdom is ruined, or that it is kept going by the fear of a prince, which makes up for the lack of religion. And because princes are short-lived, it may well happen that when a kingdom loses its prince, it loses also the virtue of its prince. Hence kingdoms which depend on the virtue of one man do not last long, because they lose their virtue when his life is spent, and it seldom happens that it is revived by his successor; for, as Dante has wisely remarked:

Rarely to the branches Does human worth ascend; for ’tis the will Of its donor that men may recognize it as his gift.(10)

The security of a republic or of a kingdom, therefore, does not depend upon its ruler governing it prudently during his lifetime, but upon his so ordering it that, after his death, it may maintain itself in being. And, though it is easier to persuade rude mena to adopt a new institution or a new standpoint, it does not follow that it is impossible to persuade civilized men to do so, i.e. those who do not look on themselves as rude men. It did not seem to the people of Florence that they were either ignorant or rude, yet they were persuaded by Friar Girolamo Savonarola that he had converse with God. I do not propose to decide whether it was so or not, because of so great a man one ought to speak with reverence; but I do say that vast numbers believed it was so, without having seen him do anything out of the common whereby to make them believe; for his life, his teaching and the topic on which he preached, were sufficient to make them trust him. Let no one despair, then, of being able to effect that which has been effected by others; for, as we have said in our preface, men are born and live and die in an order which remains ever the same.

Book One, Discourse 12. How Important it is to take Account of Religion, and how Italy has been ruined for lack of it, thanks to the Roman Church

Those princes and those republics which desire to remain free from corruption, should above all else maintain incorrupt the ceremonies of their religion and should hold them always in veneration; for there can be no surer indication of the decline of a country than to see divine worship neglected.

This is easy to understand provided one knows on what basis the religion of a man’s homeland is founded, for every religion has the basis of its life rooted in some one of its main institutions. Thus religious life among the gentiles was based on the responses given by oracles and upon a body of soothsayers and diviners. All the rest of its ceremonies, sacrifices and rites depended on these, for it was easy to believe that the god who can predict your future, be it good or evil, could also bring it about. Hence there came to be temples in which the gods were venerated by sacrifices, supplications and ceremonies of all kinds; and also the oracle of Delos, the temple of Jupiter Ammon, and other well-known oracles, which filled the world with wonder and devotion. But when the oracles began to say what was pleasing to the powerful, and this deception was discovered by the people, they became incredulous and inclined to subvert any good institution.

The rulers of a republic or of a kingdom, therefore, should uphold the basic principles of the religion which they practise in, and, if this be done, it will be easy for them to keep their commonwealth religious, and, in consequence, good and united. They should also foster and encourage everything likely to be of help to this end, even though they be convinced that it is quite fallacious. And the more should they do this the greater their prudence and the more they know of natural laws. It was owing to wise men having taken due note of this that belief in miracles arose and that miracles are held in high esteem even by religions that are false; for to whatever they owed their origin, sensible men made much of them, and their authority caused everybody to believe in them.

There were plenty of such miracles in Rome, among them one that happened when Roman soldiers were sacking the city of Veii. Some of them went into the temple of Juno and, addressing her image, said: ‘Do you want to come to Rome?’ To some it seemed that she nodded. To others that she answered. Yes. The reason was that the men were so deeply imbued with religion; for, as Livy points out, on entering the temple, they did not create a disturbance but behaved devoutly and displayed the greatest reverence. Hence it seemed to them that they heard the answer they wanted the goddess to give and had taken for granted when they approached her. Such beliefs and such credulity was studiously fostered and encouraged by Camillus and by the rest of the city’s rulers.

If such a religious spirit had been kept up by the rulers of the Christian commonwealth as was ordained for us by its founder, Christian states and republics would have been much more united and much more happy than they are. Nor if one would form a conjecture as to the causes of its decline can one do better than look at those peoples who live in the immediate neighbourhood of the Church of Rome, which is the head of our religion, and see how there is less religion among them than elsewhere. Indeed, should anyone reflect on our religion as it was when founded, and then see how different the present usage is, he would undoubtedly come to the conclusion that it is approaching either ruin or a scourge.

Many are of opinion that the prosperity of Italian cities is due to the Church of Rome. I disagree, and against this view shall adduce such reasons as are necessary, two of them so potent that, in my opinion, it is impossible to gainsay them. The first is that owing to the bad example set by the Court of Rome, Italy has lost all devotion and all religion. Attendant upon this are innumerable inconveniences and innumerable disorders; for as, where there is religion, it may be taken for granted that all is going well, so, where religion is wanting, one may take for granted the opposite. The first debt which we, Italians, owe to the Church and to priests, therefore, is that we have become irreligious and perverse.

But we owe them a yet greater debt, which is the second cause of our ruin. It is the Church that has kept, and keeps, Italy divided. Now of a truth no country has ever been united and happy unless the whole of it has been under the jurisdiction of one republic or one prince, as has happened to France and Spain. And the reason why Italy is not in the same position, i.e. why there is not one republic or one prince ruling there, is due entirely to the Church. For, though the Church has its headquarters in Italy and has temporal power, neither its power nor its virtue has been sufficiently great for it to be able to usurp power in Italy and become its leader; nor yet, on the other hand, has it been so weak that it could not, when afraid of losing its dominion over things temporal, call upon one of the powers to defend it against an Italian state that had become too powerful. There is abundant evidence of this in times gone by. For instance, with the help of Charles the Great, it drove out the Lombards who had established a sort of kingship over the whole of Italy. So, too, in our own day, it stripped Venice of its power with the help of France, and, later on, drove out the French with the help of the Swiss.(11)

The Church, then, has neither been able to occupy the whole of Italy, nor has it allowed anyone else to occupy it. Consequently, it has been the cause why Italy has never come under one head, but has been under many princes and signori, by whom such disunion and such weakness has been brought about, that it has now become the prey, not only of barbarian potentates, but of anyone who attacks it. For which our Italians have to thank the Church, and nobody else. Should anyone want to prove the truth of this by actual experience, he would need to have such power that he could send the Roman Court, together with the authority it has in Italy, to dwell in the territories of the Swiss, who are the only people who today, with respect both to religion and to military institutions, live as the ancients did. He would then find that the evil ways of this court would cause before long more disorders in that country than any that any other event at any time whatsoever has been able to bring about.

Book One, Discourse 13. What Use the Romans made of Religion in reorganizing the City, in prosecuting their Enterprises, and in composing Tumults

It does not seem to me foreign to my purpose to adduce some examples of how the Romans used religion in reforming their city, and in prosecuting their wars. In Titus Livy there are many examples of this, but I shall be content with the following. The Roman people, having created tribunes with consular power, all of whom, save one, were plebeians, there occurred in that year pestilences and famine, and certain prodigies took place. Availing themselves of this opportunity in the next appointment of tribunes, the nobles said that the gods were angry with Rome for having abused the majesty of her authority, and that the only way to placate them was to restore the election of tribunes to its proper position. The result was that the plebs, terrified by this appeal to religion, appointed only nobles as tribunes.

One notes also in the siege of the city of Veii how the army leaders used religion in order to keep the troops keyed up for attack. During the year, the Alban lake had risen in an extraordinary way, and the Roman soldiers, tired of the long siege, were desirous of returning to Rome when it was discovered that Apollo and certain other oracles had said that the city of Veii would be taken in the year in which Lake Alba overflowed. This report made the soldiers endure the fatigues of the siege, since they now felt sure that they would capture the town. Contentedly, therefore, they went on with the attack until Camillus was made dictator and took the city after it had been besieged for ten years. Thus religion, when properly used, helped both towards the taking of a city and towards the restoring of the tribunate to the nobility; which it would in both cases have been difficult to carry out save by these means.

I must not omit to add yet another relevant example. There had arisen in Rome a number of tumults occasioned by Terentillus, a tribune, who wanted to propose a certain law, for reasons which will be given later in their proper place. One of the first remedies the nobility used was religion, of which they availed themselves in two ways. First they got someone to look up the Sibylline books, which told them, so they said, that, owing to sedition, the city would be in danger of losing its liberties that very year. Though the tribunes exposed the fraud, it none the less put such fear into the breasts of the plebs that they refrained from following their lead.

Another way in which they used religion was when one Appius Herdonius, with a crowd of exiles and slaves, numbering four thousand men, seized the Capitol by night; which made people afraid lest the Aequi and the Volsci, Rome’s perpetual enemies, should come and capture Rome. In spite of this, the tribunes obstinately persisted in pushing forward the Terentillian law, alleging that the aforesaid attack was a fabrication, and that it was not true. Then from the senate came one Publius Ruberius, a grave man and a citizen of considerable authority, who, in a speech that was half friendly, half threatening, pointed out the dangers to the city and the inopportuneness of their demand to such effect that he got the plebs to swear to abide by the decision of the consul; with the result that the now obedient plebs recovered the Capitol by force. However, in the course of the attack, Publius Valerius, the consul, was killed, and forthwith Titus Quintius was reappointed in his stead, so the latter, giving the plebs no time for rest or to think of the Terentillian law, bade them go forth against the Volsci, alleging that by the oath they had made not to abandon the consul, they were obliged to follow him. The tribunes objected to this on the ground that the oath had been given to the dead consul and not to him. None the less, Titus Livy shows how the plebs, out of reverence for religion, preferred rather to obey the consul than to believe the tribunes; and on behalf of the ancient religion uses these words: ‘Not as yet was there that negligence of the gods which now prevails in the world, nor did the individual put upon oaths and laws his own interpretation.’ This made the tribunes afraid lest they should now lose the whole of their standing, so they agreed to remain obedient to the consul, and not to raise the question of the Terentillian law for a year, and the consuls agreed not to take the plebs off to the war for a year. Religion thus enabled the senate to overcome these difficulties, which, otherwise, they would never have succeeded in doing.

Book One, Discourse 14. The Romans interpreted their Auspices in accordance with their Needs, were wise enough ostensibly to observe Religion when forced to ignore it, and punished those who were so rash as to disparage it

Auguries were not only in large part the basis of the ancient religion of the gentiles, as we have remarked in a previous discourse, but they also contributed to the well-being of the Roman republic. Hence the Romans took more care in regard to them than in regard to any other institution in that republic. They made use of them in the election of consuls, in entering upon military enterprises, in leading forth their armies, on engaging in battles, and in all their important enterprises, whether civic or military. Never would they set forth on an expedition until they had convinced the troops that the gods had promised them victory.

Among other exponents of augury they had in their armies certain officials concerned with the taking of auspices, who were called poultrymen; and whenever they had to fix the day for an engagement with the enemy, they requested the poultrymen to take the auspices. If the poultry pecked, the augury was good and they fought; if they didn’t peck, they abstained from battle. Nevertheless, when reason told them that a thing had to be done, they did it anyhow, even should the auspices be adverse. But, so adroit were they in words and actions at giving things a twist that they did not appear to have done anything disparaging to religion.

Adroitness of this kind was used by Papirius, the consul, in an important battle which he fought with the Samnites, after which the latter were left extremely weak and dispirited. For, when Papirius was encamped opposite to the Samnites, and it seemed to him that in battle he would certainly win, in order that he might choose the day for this he told the poultrymen to take the auspices. But the poultry did not peck. Observing, however, the army’s great eagerness to fight and that alike the commander and all the troops thought they would win, the head-poultryman in order not to deprive the army of so good an opportunity for the work in hand, sent word to the consul that the result of the auspices had been favourable. So Papirius ordered the troops to fall in. But meanwhile some of the poultrymen let it out to some soldiers that the poultry had not pecked; and they told Spurius Papirius, the consul’s nephew, who passed it on to the consul. Whereupon the consul told him to mind his own business and to mind it well, and that, as for himself and the army, the auspices had been good, and that, if the poultryman had told a lie, that was his look-out. That the result should agree with the prognostication, he then told the legates to put the poultrymen in the forefront of the battle. Whence it came about that, when they attacked the enemy, the head-poultryman was accidentally killed by a javelin thrown by a Roman soldier. When the consul heard of this, he said that all was going well, thanks be to the gods; for by the death of this liar the army had been purged of any blame and any wrath which it had incurred in the sight of the gods. Thus, through knowing how to accommodate nicely his plans to the auspices, he engaged the enemy and beat them without the army’s suspecting that he had in any way neglected what was prescribed by their religion.

In Sicily during the first Punic war Appius Pulcher acted very differently. When about to engage with the Carthaginian army, he had the auspices taken by the poultrymen, and, when they reported that the poultry would not peck, he exclaimed ‘Let’s see if they won’t drink!’, and had them thrown into the sea. He then made the attack and lost the day. For which he was condemned at Rome and Papirius honoured; not so much because the one had been victorious and the other had lost, as because the one, in contravening the auspices, had been prudent and the other rash. Nor did this custom of consulting the auspices tend to produce any result save to cause troops to go confidently into battle, the which confidence almost always leads to victory. Nor yet was it only the Romans who used it, but also foreigners, of which I think I will give an example in the following chapter.

Book One, Discourse 15. The Samnites had recourse to Religion as a last Resort when their Affairs were going badly

After the Samnites had been defeated several times by the Romans and had been finally destroyed in Tuscany, their army and its officers killed, their allies such as the Tuscans, Gauls and Umbrians conquered, ‘they could rely now neither on their strength nor on that of others, yet they did not withdraw from the war, so far were they from becoming weary of defending liberty even without success, and so much did they prefer to be beaten rather than not try to win’. They determined, therefore, to make a final effort; and, since they knew it was necessary to instil into the minds of the soldiers an obstinate will to conquer, and that, to instil it, there were no better means than religion, they decided on the advice of Ovius Paccius, their priest, to revive one of their ancient sacrifices. The ritual they observed was as follows. Having offered a solemn sacrifice, and made all the officers of the army stand between the dead victims and the flame-lit altars and swear that they would never abandon the fight, they called up the soldiers one by one, made them stand between the altars in the midst of a number of centurions with drawn swords in their hands, and first of all swear that they would not reveal anything which they saw or observed. They then made them promise the gods with curses and the most terrible incantations that they would be ready to go wherever the generals ordered, that they would never flee from the battle, and that they would kill anyone whom they saw running away, and, if they did not do this, they prayed that the curse might fall on the heads of their family and on their children. Some of them, terrified, were reluctant to take the oath, and were at once killed by the centurions. All those who came after them, frightened by the ferocity of the spectacle, then took the oath. To make this, their assemblage of forty thousand men, yet more magnificent, they clad half of them in white, with crests and plumes on their helmets; and, thus arrayed, the army took up its position near Aquilonia.

Papirius went to meet them, and, to encourage his troops, told them that ‘crests do not cause wounds, and the Roman javelin goes through painted and gilded shields’. Then, in order to dispel any false impression his own troops might have formed of the enemy owing to the oath they had taken, he said that its effect would be to make them afraid, not to strengthen them, since at one and the same time they were afraid of their fellow citizens, of the gods, and of the enemy.

When the engagement took place, the Samnites were overcome, because the virtue of the Romans and the fear caused by past defeats more than counterbalanced any obstinacy they might have derived from the virtue of religion and from the oath they had taken. Nevertheless, it is clear that to them there did not appear to be anything else to which they could have recourse or any other remedy they could try in the hope of recovering the virtue they had lost. This bears striking witness to the magnitude of that confidence which religion gives when properly used.

And, though, perhaps, it might have been better to discuss the question under the head of foreign affairs, yet it is concerned with one of the most important institutions of the Roman Republic, and so seems to me to belong here, since otherwise I should have to deal with this topic in parts and to return to it several times.

Book One, Discourses 16–18: The Transition from Servitude to Freedom

Book One, Discourse 16. A People accustomed to live under a Prince, should they by some Eventuality become free, will with Difficulty maintain their Freedom

How difficult it is for a people accustomed to live under a prince to preserve their liberty, should they by some accident acquire it as Rome did after the expulsion of the Tarquins, is shown by numerous examples which may be studied in the historical records of ancient times. That there should be such a difficulty is reasonable; for such a people differs in no wise from a wild animal which, though by nature fierce and accustomed to the woods, has been brought up in captivity and servitude and is then loosed to rove the countryside at will, where, being unaccustomed to seeking its own food and discovering no place in which it can find refuge, it becomes the prey of the first comer who seeks to chain it up again.

The same thing happens to a people which has been accustomed to live under foreign rulers and so has taken no thought for either public defence or offence and is acquainted with no princes nor yet are any acquainted with it; it forthwith returns to the yoke, and ofttimes to a heavier one than that which, a while back, it threw off its neck. This difficulty may occur, no matter how free the material be from corruption. But, since a people which has become wholly corrupt, cannot even for a brief space, no, not even for a moment, enjoy its freedom, as we shall show later, we shall confine ourselves in the present discourse to peoples in whom corruption has not advanced too far, and in whom there is still more goodness than rottenness.(12)

In addition to the difficulty already mentioned there is yet another. It is that the government of a state which has become free evokes factions which are hostile, not factions which are friendly. To such hostile factions will belong all those who held preferment under the tyrannical government and grew fat on the riches of its prince, since, now that they are deprived of these emoluments, they cannot live contented, but are compelled, each of them, to try to restore the tyranny in order to regain their authority. Nor, as I have said, will such a government acquire supporters who are friendly, because a self-governing statea assigns honours and rewards only for honest and determinate reasons, and, apart from this, rewards and honours no one; and when one acquires honours or advantages which appear to have been deserved, one does not acknowledge any obligation towards those responsible for the remuneration. Furthermore, that common advantage which results from a self-governing state is not recognized by anybody so long as it is possessed – the possibility of enjoying what one has, freely and without incurring suspicion for instance, the assurance that one’s wife and children will be respected, the absence of fear for oneself – for no one admits that he incurs an obligation to another merely because that other has done him no wrong.

It is, then, as I have said. The government of a state which is free and has been newly formed, will evoke hostile factions but not friendly factions. If then one desires to remedy these difficulties and to cure the disorders which the aforesaid difficulties bring about, there is no way more efficient, more sure, more safe or more necessary, than to kill the sons of Brutus, who, as history shows13 would not together with other Roman youths have been induced to conspire against their country if it had not been that, under consuls, they could not attain to an outstanding position, as they could under the kings; so that the freedom of the people was, from their point of view, but servitude.

He then who sets out to govern the masses, whether in a free state or in a principality, and does not secure himself against those who are hostile to the new order, is setting up a form of government which will be but short-lived. True, I look upon those rulers as unhappy who, to make their government secure, have to adopt abnormal methods because they find the masses hostile; for he who has but the few as his enemies, can easily and without much scandal make himself secure, but he who has the public as a whole for his enemy can never make himself secure; and the greater his cruelty, the weaker does his regime become. In such a case the best remedy he can adopt is to make the populace his friend.

Though to speak now of a prince, now of a republic is to distort the plan of this discourse, I propose, none the less, to talk of princes that I may not have to return to this topic. If, then, a prince wants to make sure of a populace that might be hostile to him – I speak of such princes as have become tyrants in their own country – what I say is that he ought first to ask what it is that the people desire, and that he will always find that they desire two things: (i) to avenge themselves against the persons who have been the cause of their servitude, and (ii) to regain their freedom. The first of these demands the prince can satisfy entirely, the second in part.

Of the first demand there is an example much to the point. When Clearchus, tyrant of Heraclea, was in exile, it happened that in Heraclea a controversy arose between its populace and the upper class who were in the weaker position, and so decided to support Clearchus and, despite the popular feeling, swore to bring him back and to deprive the populace of its freedom. It thus came about that Clearchus found himself between an arrogant upper class which he could in no way either satisfy or correct, and a raving populace who could not stand having lost its freedom. He decided therefore at one stroke to free himself from the vexations caused by the leading men and to win over the populace. So, choosing a suitable opportunity, he cut to pieces all the nobles to the immense satisfaction of the popular party, and in this way satisfied one of the demands of the populace, namely, the demand for vengeance.

As to the second popular demand – the restoration of freedom, since this the prince is unable to satisfy, he should inquire as to the grounds on which the demand for freedom is based. He will find that a small section of the

populace desire to be free in order to obtain authority over others, but that the vast bulk of those who demand freedom, desire but to live in security. For in all states whatever be their form of government, the real rulers do not amount to more than forty or fifty citizens and, since this is a small number, it is an easy thing to make yourself secure in their regard either by doing away with them or by granting them such a share of honours, according to their standing, as will for the most part satisfy them. As for the rest, who demand but to live in security, they can easily be satisfied by introducing such institutions and laws as shall, in conjunction with the power of the prince, make for the security of the public as a whole. When a prince does this, and the people see that on no occasion does he break such laws, in a short time they will begin to live in security and contentment.

This is exemplified by the kingdom of France, in which people live in security simply because its kings are pledged to observe numerous laws on which the security of all their people depends. It was the intention of the founder of this state that its kings should do as they thought fit in regard to the use of arms and to finance, but that in other respects they should act as the laws required.14 That prince, therefore, or that republic which has not made its government secure at the outset, must take the first opportunity of doing so, as the Romans did. He who fails to do this will repent too late of having omitted to do what he ought to have done.

Thus, since the Roman people were not as yet corrupt when they regained their freedom, they were able to maintain it when the sons of Brutus were dead and there was an end of the Tarquins, by means of those methods of government and those institutions which are discussed elsewhere. On the other hand, had this people already become corrupt, neither in Rome nor anywhere else would remedies adequate for its maintenance have been found, as will be shown in the next chapter.

Book One, Discourse 17. A Corrupted People, having acquired Liberty, can maintain it only with the Greatest Difficulty

In Rome it was inevitable, in my opinion, that either the kings should be removed or that in a very short time the state would have become weak and of no account; because, if one considers how corrupt the kings had become, it is clear that in the course of two or three generations the corruption inherent in the kingship would have begun to spread to the members, and, when the members had become corrupt, it would no longer have been possible to reform them. But, since the head was lost while the trunk remained whole it was easily possible to recover a free and ordered mode of life. It should be assumed, then, as a basic and established principle that to a state(a) which has been under a prince and has become corrupt, freedom cannot be restored even if the prince and the whole of his stock be wiped out. On the contrary, what will happen is that one prince will wipe out another, and without the creation of a new lord it will never settle down unless indeed the goodness of some one man, conjoined with virtue, should keep it free. Such freedom, however, will last only so long as he lives. This happened to Syracuse in the case of Dion and of Timoleon, whose virtue was such that on both occasions the city remained free so long as they lived, but when they were dead returned to its ancient tyranny.

Nor can any better example of this be found than in Rome, which, when the Tarquins were expelled, was able forthwith both to acquire and to maintain its liberty; yet, when Caesar was killed, and Gaius Caligula and Nero were killed, and the whole of Caesar’s stock was exterminated, was not only unable ever to maintain liberty, but could not even make a start. Results so diverse in one and the same city are caused by nought else but that in the time of the Tarquins the Roman populace was not yet corrupt, but in the later period was extremely corrupt. For in the former case, in order to stiffen the people up and to keep them averse to a king, it sufficed to make them swear never to consent to any king ruling in Rome. But in the other period the authority and severity of Brutus, backed by all the legions of the East, did not suffice to keep them disposed to desire that liberty to be maintained which he, after the manner of the first Brutus, had introduced. This was due to the corruption with which the Marian faction had impregnated the populace. For, when Caesar became the head of this faction, he so successfully blinded the masses that they were unaware of the yoke which they themselves had placed on their necks.

Though the example of Rome is preferable to any other, yet I propose to add to it further examples with which those who live at the present time will be familiar. I assert, then, that nothing that befell Milan or Naples, however grave and however violent in character, could ever bring them freedom, since their members were wholly corrupt. This is apparent after the death of Filippo Visconti, for, though it was proposed to introduce freedom in Milan, it could not be done, nor could any means of maintaining it be devised. Rome, then, was extremely lucky in that its kings quickly became corrupt, with the result that they were expelled before their corruption had penetrated to the bowels of that city. This absence of corruption was, in fact, the reason why the numerous tumults which took place in Rome, instigated by men of good intentions, did no harm, but, on the contrary, were an advantage to that republic.

It is possible, then, to arrive at this conclusion: when the material is not corrupt, tumults and other troubles do no harm, but, when it is corrupt, good legislation is of no avail unless it be initiated by someone in so extremely strong a position that he can enforce obedience until such time as the material has become good. Whether this has ever happened or whether it is possible for it to happen I do not know. For, as I have just said, it is clear that, if in a state which is on the decline owing to the corruption of its material a renaissance is ever to be brought about, it will be by the virtue of some one person who is then living, not by the virtue of the public as a whole, that good institutions are kept up, and, as soon as such a person is dead, they will relapse into their former habits.15

This happened at Thebes, which, thanks to the virtue of Epaminondas, successfully maintained a republican form of government as long as he lived, but, on his death, forthwith returned to its former disorderly state. The reason is that no individual can possibly live long enough for a state which has long had bad customs to acquire good ones. Unless a man living for a very long time or one virtuous man succeeded by another, organize it on their passing away, as we have said, there would be a collapse, unless the renaissance is brought about at considerable risk and with no small blood- shedding. For corruption of this kind and ineptitude for a free mode of life is due to the inequality one finds in a city, and, to restore equality it is necessary to take steps which are by no means normal; and this few people either know how to do or are ready to do, a point that will be dealt with in detail in another place.16

Book One, Discourse 18. How in Corrupt Cities a Free Government can be maintained where it exists, or be established where it does not exist

It will not, I think, be foreign to my purpose nor contrary to the plan of my previous discourse to consider whether in a corrupt city it is possible to maintain a free government(a) where it exists, and whether, when there has been none, it can be set up. In regard to this question I maintain that in either case it will be a very difficult thing to do. It is, moreover, almost impossible to lay down rules, for the method to be adopted will of necessity depend upon the degree of corruption. None the less, since it is well to take account of all cases, I do not propose to shelve the question. I suppose then an exceedingly corrupt state, whereby the difficulty will clearly be intensified, since in it there will be found neither laws nor institutions which will suffice to check widespread corruption. Because, just as for the maintenance of good customs laws are required, so if laws are to be observed, there is need of good customs. Furthermore, institutions and laws made in the early days of a republic when men were good, no longer serve their purpose when men have become bad. And, if by any chance the laws of the state are changed, there will never, or but rarely, be a change in its institutions. The result is that new laws are ineffectual, because the institutions, which remain constant, corrupt them.

In order to make this point more clear I would point out that in Rome there was a constitution regulating its government, or rather its form of government, and then laws enabling the magistrates to keep the citizens in order. To the constitution determining its form of government pertained the authority vested in the people, the senate, the tribunes, and in the consuls, the method of applying for and of appointing to magisterial posts, and its legislative procedure. These institutions underwent little or no change in the course of events, whereas there were changes in the laws which kept the citizens in order. There was, for instance, the law concerning adultery, the sumptuary law, a law concerning ambition, and many others. These laws were introduced step by step as the citizens became corrupt. But since the institutions determining its form of government remained unchanged and, when corruption had set in, were no longer good, these modifications of the laws did not suffice to keep men good, though they might have helped had the introduction of new laws been accompanied by a modification of the institutions.

That it is true to say that such institutions would not be good in a corrupted state is clearly seen in two important cases, in the appointing of magistrates and in the making of laws. The Roman people had never given the consulate or any other important office in the city except to such as had applied for the post. This institution was at the outset good, because only such citizens applied for posts as judged themselves worthy to fill them, and to be rejected was looked upon as ignominious; so that everybody behaved well in order to be judged worthy. This procedure, when the city became corrupt, was extremely harmful; because not those who had more virtue, but those who had more power, applied for magistracies, and the powerless, though virtuous, refrained from applying through fear. This inconvenience did not come about all at once, but by stages, as is the case with all inconveniences. For when the Romans had conquered Africa and Asia, and had reduced the greater part of Greece to subjection, they had become secure as to their liberty nor had they any more enemies whom there was ground to fear. This sense of security and this weakness on the part of their enemies caused the Roman people in appointing to the consulate to consider not a man’s virtue, but his popularity. This drew to that office men who knew better how to get round men, not those who knew better how to conquer enemies. They then turned from those who had more popularity and gave it to those who had more power. Thus owing to the defectiveness of this institution it came about that good men were wholly excluded from consular rank.

Again, a tribune or any other citizen could propose to the people a law, in regard to which every citizen was entitled to speak either in favour of it or against, prior to a decision being reached. This institution was good so long as the citizens were good, because it is always a good thing that anyone anxious to serve the public should be able to propose his plan. It is also a good thing that everyone should be at liberty to express his opinion on it, so that when the people have heard what each has to say they may choose the best plan. But when the citizens had become perverse, this institution became a nuisance; because only the powerful proposed laws, and this for the sake, not of their common liberties, but to augment their own power. And against such projects no one durst speak for fear of such folk; with the result that the people were induced, either by deceit or by force, to adopt measures which spelt their own ruin.

In order to maintain Rome’s liberty, therefore, when corruption had set in, it was necessary in the course of its development to introduce new institutions just as there had been made new laws; for different institutions and a different procedure should be prescribed for the governed according as they are good or bad, since similar forms cannot subsist in matter which is disposed in a contrary manner. Now defective institutions must either be renovated all at once as soon as the decline from goodness is noticed, or little by little before they become known to everybody. Neither of which courses is possible, I maintain. For if the renovation is to take place little by little, there is need of someone who shall see the inconvenience coming while yet it is far off and in its infancy. But it may quite easily happen in a state that no such person will ever arise, or, should he arise in point of fact, that he will never be able to persuade others to see things as he does himself; for men accustomed to a certain mode of life are reluctant to change it, especially when they have not themselves noticed the evil in question, but have had their attention called to it by conjectures. While with regard to modifying institutions all at once when everybody realizes that they are no good, I would point out that, though it is easy to recognize their futility, it is not easy to correct it; for, to do this, normal methods will not suffice now that normal methods are bad. Hence it is necessary to resort to extraordinary methods, such as the use of force and an appeal to arms, and, before doing anything, to become a prince in the state, so that one can dispose it as one thinks fit.

But, to reconstitute political life in a state presupposes a good man, whereas to have recourse to violence in order to make oneself prince in a republic supposes a bad man. Hence very rarely will there be found a good man ready to use bad methods in order to make himself prince, though with a good end in view, nor yet a bad man who, having become a prince, is ready to do the right thing and to whose mind it will occur to use well that authority which he has acquired by bad means.

It is on account of all this that it is difficult, or rather impossible, either to maintain a republican form of government in states which have become corrupt or to create such a form afresh. Should a republic simply have to be created or to be maintained, it would be necessary to introduce into it a form of government akin rather to a monarchy than to a democracy, so that those men whose arrogance is such that they cannot be corrected by legal processes, may yet be restrained to some extent by a quasi-regal power.17 To try to make them become good in any other way would be either a most brutal or an impossible undertaking – the kind of thing that Cleomenes did, as I said above; for that he might rule alone, he killed the ephors, and for the same reasons Romulus killed his brother and Titus Tatius killed the Sabine, and afterwards both of them made good use of their authority. It should, however, be noted that neither the one nor the other had subjects steeped in corruption, which in this chapter we have taken as the basis of our argument; so that both were able to resolve on such steps, and, having done so, to camouflage their plan.

Book One, Discourses 19–24: Sundry Reflections on the Kings of Rome

Book One, Discourse 19. A Weak Prince who succeeds an Outstanding Prince can hold his own, but a Weak Prince who succeeds another Weak Prince cannot hold any Kingdom

The virtue and the methods of Romulus, Numa and Tullus, the first three kings of Rome, show how extremely fortunate Rome was to have had first a fierce and warlike king, then a peaceful and religious one, and thirdly a king with the military ardour of Romulus and a lover of war rather than peace. For it was essential to Rome in its early days that there should arise a legislator to give it a civic constitution, and it was also necessary that there should be others who would again display the virtue of Romulus, since, otherwise, the city would have become effeminate and have fallen a prey to its neighbours. In which connection it may be noted that a prince who is less virtuous than his predecessor can hold a state thanks to the virtue of its previous ruler and can enjoy the fruits of his labours; but, should he happen to live a long time or should there not arise another who again displays the virtue of the first, the kingdom must needs be ruined. And, conversely, if of two princes who come one after the other both are conspicuous for virtue, it is frequently found that they perform magnificent exploits and that their fame reaches to the uppermost limits of the heavens.

David no doubt was a very fine man, alike as soldier, teacher and judge; and his virtue was such that, having beaten and conquered all his neighbours, he left to his young son, Solomon, a peaceful kingdom, which he could maintain by peaceful instead of warlike methods, and there enjoy happily the fruits of his father’s virtue. He could not, however, leave it just so to Rehoboam, his young son, who, since he lacked his grandfather’s virtue and also his father’s good fortune, with difficulty remained heir to a sixth part of the kingdom.18

Bajazet, Sultan of the Turks, a man who loved peace more than war, was able to enjoy the fruits of his father, Mahomet’s, labours; for the latter, like David, had defeated his neighbours, and left to him a strong kingdom which he could easily maintain by peaceful methods. Had, however, his son, Selim, the present ruler, been like his father, not like his grandfather, this kingdom would have been ruined. Actually, however, he seems to be out to excel the glory of his grandfather.

I claim, then, in view of these examples, that a weak prince who succeeds an able prince can hold his own; but that if a weak prince succeeds another weak prince, he cannot keep any kingdom going, unless, as in France, there are ancient institutions which keep things going. By ‘weak’ princes I mean those who are not prepared for war.

I conclude with these remarks. The virtue of Romulus was so great that he made it possible for Numa Pompilius to rule for many years by peaceful methods. He was then succeeded by Tullus whose repute for ferocity rivalled that of Romulus. Then came Ancus whose natural talents were such that he could avail himself of peace and also carry on war. At first he was inclined to keep to the ways of peace; but when one fine day he discovered that his neighbours thought him effeminate and held him in little esteem, he at once decided that, if he wanted to keep Rome, he must resort to war and emulate Romulus rather than Numa.

From these examples let all princes who have dominions learn that, if they emulate Numa, they will hold them or fail to hold them according to the times or the fortune that befalls them. Whereas if they emulate Romulus and, like him, rely both on prudence and on arms, they will hold them in any case, unless some obstinate and overwhelming force takes them away. It is highly probable that if it had not been Rome’s lot to have in her third king a man who knew how to use armed forces to maintain her reputation, she would never, or would with the utmost difficulty, have established her position, nor would she have succeeded in effecting what she did effect. Thus, while Rome was subject to kings, she was exposed to dangers that might have ruined her had she been under a weak or malevolent king.

Book One, Discourse 20. Two Virtuous Princes, of whom one immediately succeeds the other, do Great Things: and, as in Well-ordered Republics there is of necessity such a Virtuous Succession, their Acquisitions and their Increase also is great

When Rome got rid of her kings, with them vanished the dangers entailed by the accession of a weak or a bad king. For the sovereign power was now vested in consuls, who acquired it not by heredity or by trickery or by violence inspired by ambition, but came into this power by the free votes of the people, and withal were very able men. Under their virtuous rule Rome thrived and fortune favoured her time and again, so that she attained to her highest pitch of greatness in as many years again as she had been subject to kings.

How this came about is clear. For, if the immediate succession of one virtuous prince by another suffices for the conquest of the world, as it did in the case of Philip of Macedon and Alexander the Great, a republic should be all the more successful, since, thanks to its practice of electing its rulers, it has not merely a succession of two highly virtuous rulers, but an infinite number each succeeding the other; and this virtuous succession may always be kept up in a well-ordered republic.

Book One, Discourse 21. Princes and Republics which have not their own Armed Forces are highly reprehensible

Present-day princes and modern republics which have not their own troops for offence and defence ought to be ashamed of themselves. They should consider the example set by Tullus, and should ascribe this defect not to lack of men fit to become soldiers, but to their own fault in that they have neglected to train men to be soldiers. Rome had been at peace for forty years when Tullus succeeded to that kingdom and he found there no man who had ever been to the wars. None the less, when he was making plans for war, he did not consider making use of the Samnites or of the Tuscans or of others who were accustomed to the use of arms, but decided, like a prudent man, to avail himself of his own people. And so great was his virtue that in a brief space under his rule he was able to make excellent soldiers. It is indeed the truest of truths that if, where there are men, there are not soldiers, it is their ruler’s fault, not the fault of the situation or of nature.

Of this there is quite a recent instance. For everyone knows how a short time ago the king of England attacked the kingdom of France, and took with him none but his own people as troops. It being more than thirty years since this kingdom had been engaged in war, there were neither soldiers nor officers who had ever seen military service. Yet with such troops the king did not hesitate to attack a kingdom in which there were plenty of officers and of good troops who had been continuously under arms in the wars in Italy. All this was due to the king’s being a prudent man and to his kingdom being in good order, for in times of peace it had not dropped the institutions associated with war.{19}

When the Thebans, Pelopidas and Epaminondas, had liberated Thebes and delivered it from servitude under the Spartan empire, they found themselves in a city accustomed to servitude and amidst an effeminate populace. Yet, such was their virtue that they did not hesitate to put the populace under arms nor with such troops to scour the countryside in search of the Spartan army, which they defeated. With reference to this a writer says that these two showed in a short time that it was not only in Lacaedemonia that warriors are born, but wherever men are born, provided there be those who know how to give the military training, as we have seen that Tullus did in the case of the Romans. This view could not be expressed better than it is by Virgil, nor does any remark put it so neatly as he does when he says of Tullus: And his slothful men Will Tullus rouse to arms.

Book One, Discourse 22. What is worthy of Note in the Case of the Three Roman Horatii and of the Three Alban Curiatii

Tullus, king of Rome, and Mettius, king of Alba, made a pact to the effect that whichever of these two sets of three men should win, their people would become lords over the other people. All the Alban Curiatii were killed, and of the Roman Horatii only one survived. Consequently Mettius, the Alban king, together with his people, became subject to the Romans. When the victorious Horatius returned to Rome he met one of his sisters who was married to one of the three Curiatii who had been slain. She was bewailing her husband’s death, so he killed her. For this delinquency Horatius was brought to trial, and after much disputing was set free, not so much on account of his merits as on account of his father’s intercession.

There are three things to be noted here: (i) that never should one risk the whole of one’s fortune on the success of but a part of one’s forces; (ii) that in assigning rewards and punishments in a well-ordered city never should blameworthy actions be counterbalanced by deserts; (iii) that it is never wise to adopt a course if there is reason to doubt, or if there be doubt, whether the other party will observe his engagements. For that one city should become subject to another is a matter of such consequence that it was incredible that any king or any people should have rested content if the issue depend on three of their citizens being vanquished. This is illustrated by the conduct of Mettius, who, when the Romans won, at once admitted his own defeat and promised obedience to Tullus, yet in the first expedition which the Romans undertook against the Veientes, is found contriving how to let them down, like a man who comes to see too late how rash is the course he had adopted.

In regard to this third point enough has been said, so in the next two chapters I shall speak only of the other two points.

Book One, Discourse 23. That One should not stake the Whole of One’s Fortune except on the Whole of One’s Forces; and that, consequently, it is frequently Harmful to defend Passes

It has never been thought a wise course to risk the whole of your fortune without employing all your forces. This may be done in several ways. One way is to act as Tullus and Mettius did when they entrusted the whole of their country’s fortune and the virtue of all the troops each of them had in his army to the virtue and fortune of three of their citizens, who came to but a tiny fraction of the forces each had at his disposal. Nor did they realize that in adopting such a course they were treating as of no account all the pains to which their ancestors had put themselves in order so to organize the commonwealth that it might enjoy a long life of freedom and that the citizens of each might be themselves the defenders of their freedom, for it lay within the power of so few to lose it. Than this these kings could hardly have done anything more stupid.

Those also almost always incur an inconvenience of this kind who, when the enemy is at hand, decide to hold difficult positions and to defend passes; for such a decision is almost always harmful unless the difficult position is such that you can conveniently hold it with all your forces. In that case this course should be adopted. But if the place is so awkward that it will not hold all your forces, such a course is dangerous. What leads me to think so is that those who have been attacked by a powerful foe in a land surrounded by mountains and in an Alpine terrain, have never attempted to engage the enemy in their passes and their mountains but have gone forth from them to meet him beyond them; or, when reluctant to do this, have awaited him behind their mountains, but in open country, not in country of the Alpine type. The reasons for this are, as has been said, that it is not easy to bring many men to the defence of an Alpine terrain, both because there is not enough for them to live on for very long, and because, the place being confined and capable of holding but a few, it is not possible to withstand an enemy who comes with a large force to attack it; and for the enemy to come with a large force is easy since his purpose is to get through, not to make it a stronghold. Nor is it possible for the defender to await in force, since he does not know when the enemy intends to pass that way, and so must find accommodation for a lengthy period in places which I am supposing to be both confined and sterile. When, therefore, the pass which you proposed to hold and on which your people and your army were relying, has been lost, your people and what remains of your forces will more often than not be so filled with terror that they will give up without awaiting a further chance of putting their valour to the test. You will thus have lost your whole fortune though you have employed but a part of your forces.

Everybody knows how difficult Hannibal found it to cross the Alps which separate Lombardy from Gaul and again how difficult he found it to cross those which separate Lombardy from Tuscany. Yet the Romans, in spite of this, awaited him first on the Ticinus and afterwards in the plain of Arezzo, for they preferred their army to be wiped out by the enemy in a place where it had a chance of winning rather than to lead it up the Alps to be destroyed by the malignant situation.

He who reads with appreciation history as a whole will find that very few generals of any virtuosity have attempted to hold such passes, both for the aforesaid reasons and because it is impossible to close them all, for in mountains, as in open country, there are not only the commonly frequented routes, but many others which, if not known to foreigners, are known to peasants, whose help you can always enlist in any place to the discomfiture of your opponent.

Of this quite a recent example may be cited. In 1515 when Francis, king of France, was intending to cross into Italy in order to regain control of Lombardy, the chief objection raised by those who were averse to the undertaking was that the Swiss would be a menace to the passes over their mountains. But experience showed that the objection was without foundation for, avoiding the two or three places which the Swiss were guarding, the king came by another route of which they were unaware, and was in Italy and down on them before they knew of it. Whereupon the Swiss in their alarm retreated on Milan, and the whole population of Lombardy came out to welcome the French forces when they found they were mistaken in thinking that the French would be held up in their mountains.

Book One, Discourse 24. Well-ordered Republics, in assigning Rewards and Punishments, never balance one against the Other

Very great were the merits of Horatius by whose virtue the Curiatii had been overcome; yet so abominable was his crime of killing his sister and so distressed were the Romans by this murder, that they tried him for his life, despite his deserts which were both great and recent. Superficially this would seem to be an instance of the ingratitude of the populace. But if one examines the case more carefully, bearing in mind the kind of institutions that a republic should have, it will be seen that the populace was more to blame for letting him off than for wanting to condemn him. The reason is that no well-ordered republic allows the demerits of its citizens to be cancelled out by their merits; but, having prescribed rewards for a good deed and punishments for a bad one, and having rewarded someone for doing well, if that same person afterwards does wrong, it punishes him, regardless of any of the good deeds he has done. And, when such ordinances are duly observed, the city long enjoys freedom, but otherwise will always be ruined. Because if a citizen who has rendered some signal service to the state, acquire thereby not merely the repute which the affair has brought him, but is emboldened to expect that he can do wrong with impunity, he will soon become so insolent that civic life in such a state will disappear.

It is highly necessary, therefore, that if punishment is to be assigned for evil deeds, rewards should be made for good ones, as actually was the case in Rome. Even though a republic be poor and able to give but little, it should not withhold that little, because every little gift awarded to someone in recognition of services however great, will always be highly esteemed and treasured by the recipient.

The story of Horatius Codes and that of Mucius Scaevola is well known. The first held the enemy in check on a bridge until at length it was cut down. The other burnt the hand that had erred when he was going to assassinate Porsenna, king of the Tuscans. For these two deeds of outstanding merit, they each received a public grant of two half-acres of land.

The story of Manlius Capitolinus is also noteworthy. For having saved the Capitol from the Gauls who were encamped before it, his fellow- citizens who were being besieged together with him, gave him a small measure of corn. This reward was considerable in view of fortunes then current in Rome. It was also such that, when Manlius, out of envy or because his nature was bad, started a sedition in Rome and tried to win over the populace, not the least attention was paid to his merits, but he was thrown headlong from the Capitol which he had once saved with such renown.

Book One, Discourses 25–27: The Introduction of New Forms of Government

Book One, Discourse 25. He who proposes to change an Old-established Form of Government in a Free City should retain at least the Shadow of its Ancient Customs

He who desires or proposes to change the form of government in a state and wishes it to be acceptable and to be able to maintain it to everyone’s satisfaction, must needs retain at least the shadow of its ancient customs, so that institutions may not appear to its people to have been changed, though in point of fact the new institutions may be radically different from the old ones. This he must do because men in general are as much affected by what a thing appears to be as by what it is, indeed they are frequently influenced more by appearances than by the reality.

For this reason the Romans, on acquiring freedom, recognized the need of this from the start; and when in place of a king they appointed two consuls, they decided that the latter should not have more than twelve lictors, so as not to exceed the number which had ministered to the kings.

Furthermore, since when a commemorative sacrifice was offered it could only be offered by the king in person, and they did not wish the absence of the kings to arouse in the people a desire for anything pertaining to the past, they appointed a ‘master of ceremonies’ whom they called the ‘sacrificial king’ and put him under the high priest. It thus came about that the populace were content with this sacrifice, and had no occasion, for lack of a king, to desire that he should return.

This should be noted by all who contemplate abolishing an ancient form of constitution in a city and setting up a new and free form; because, since novelties cause men to change their minds, you should see to it that changes retain as much as possible of what is old, and that, if changes are made in the number, the authority and the period of office of the magistrates, they should retain the traditional names.

This, as I have said, should be observed by one who proposes to set up a political regime,a whether by way of a republic or by way of a monarchy. But he who proposes to set up a despotism,b or what writers call a ‘tyranny’,20 must renovate everything, as will be said in the next chapter.

Book One, Discourse 26. In a City or Province which he has seized, a New Prince should make Everything New

Should anyone become the ruler either of a city or of a state, especially if he has no sure footing in it and it is suited neither for the civic life characteristic of a monarchy nor yet that of a republic, the best thing he can do in order to retain such a principality, given that he be a new prince, is to organize everything in that state afresh; e.g. in its cities to appoint new governors, with new tides and a new authority, the governors themselves being new men; to make the rich poor and the poor rich; as did David when he became king, ‘who filled the hungry with good things and the rich sent empty away’(21); as well as to build new cities, to destroy those already built, and to move the inhabitants from one place to another far distant from it; in short, to leave nothing of that province intact, and nothing in it, neither rank, nor institution, nor form of government, nor wealth, except it be held by such as recognize that it comes from you.

His aim should be to emulate Philip of Macedon, the father of Alexander, who, starting as a little king, by these methods made himself prince of Greece. Of him a writer says that he moved men from province to province as shepherds move their sheep.

Such methods are exceedingly cruel, and are repugnant to any community, not only to a Christian one, but to any composed of men. It behoves, therefore, every man to shun them, and to prefer rather to live as a private citizen than as a king with such ruination of men to his score. None the less, for the sort of man who is unwilling to take up this first course of well doing, it is expedient, should he wish to hold what he has, to enter on the path of wrong doing. Actually, however, most men prefer to steer a middle course, which is very harmful; for they know not how to be wholly good nor yet wholly bad, as in the next chapter will be shown by means of an example.

Book One, Discourse 27. Very rarely do Men know how to be either Wholly Good or Wholly Bad

Pope Julius II, on going to Bologna in 1505 to expel from that state the house of Bentivogli, who had held that city as a principality for a hundred years, resolved also to remove Giovampagolo Baglioni from Perugia, where he was ruling as a tyrant, for the Pope had sworn to be rid of all tyrants who had seized the estates of the Church. Being thus minded and for this purpose, as everyone knew, he hurried to Perugia and did not wait for the army which was to protect him before entering the city, but entered it unarmed, in spite of the fact that Giovampagolo was there in person with a strong body of troops which he had collected for his defence. Carried away by that impetuosity which characterized all his actions, he thus placed himself and the simple guard he had with him in the hands of his enemy; yet took his enemy away with him, and left in the city a governor who should be responsible to the Church.

Prudent men who were with the Pope were astonished at the pope’s rashness and at the cowardice displayed by Giovampagolo; nor could they understand how it came about that the latter did not acquire perpetual fame by getting rid of his enemy at a single stroke and enriching himself with the booty; for with the Pope were all the cardinals in all their splendour. They could not believe that it was any good motive, or his conscience, that held him back, for the heart of a criminal who had committed incest with his own sister and to gain the throne had put to death his cousins and his nephews, could scarce be influenced by any pious consideration. So they concluded it must be due to men not knowing how to be either magnificently bad or perfectly good; and that, since evil deeds have a certain grandeur and are open-handed in their way, Giovampagolo was incapable of performing them.

Thus Giovampagolo, who thought nothing of incest or of publicly murdering his relatives, knew not how, or better, did not dare, to avail himself of an excellent opportunity to do what would have caused everyone to admire his courage and would have gained for him immortal fame, since he would have been the first to show prelates how little men are respected who live and rule as they do, and would have done a thing the greatness of which would have obliterated any infamy and any danger that might arise from it.

Book One, Discourses 28–32: Ingratitude

Book One, Discourse 28. What made the Romans less ungrateful to their Citizens than were the Athenians?

Whoever reads of the doings of republics will find in all of them some sort of ingratitude in the way in which they deal with their citizens, but in Rome will find less than in Athens, and perhaps than in any other republic. If one inquires how this comes about in the case of Rome and Athens, I believe that it was due to Rome’s having less ground for mistrusting her citizens than had Athens. For in Rome one sees that from the expulsion of the kings to the time of Sulla and Marius, she was never deprived of liberty by any of her citizens so that in her case there was no great reason to be suspicious of them, and, in consequence, rashly to give them offence.

The contrary was noticeably the case in Athens, for it was deprived of liberty by Pisistratus during its most flourishing period owing to its mistaken notion of what was good for it. Thus, when it again became free, mindful of the injuries done to it and of its past servitude, it very quickly became vengeful, not only when its citizens made mistakes, but even the semblance of mistakes. Hence the banishment and execution of so many of its best citizens. Hence the institution of ostracism and other forms of violence used at various times in that city against its upper class. Quite rightly do writers on civic government say that peoples bite more savagely when they have just recovered their liberty than when they have had it for some time.

In view, therefore, of what has been said, one can neither blame Athens nor praise Rome for what happened, but should ascribe it simply to necessity, a necessity that was brought about in these cities by events which differed in kind. For if one looks into things closely, one will see that, if Rome had been deprived of her liberty as Athens was, she would not have shown more respect for her citizens than did Athens. This becomes highly probable if we bear in mind what occurred, after the expulsion of the kings, in the case of Collatinus and Publius Valerius; of whom the first, although he was one of those who had helped to liberate Rome, was banished simply because he bore the name of Tarquin, while the second narrowly escaped being made an exile merely because he became suspect on account of a house he had built on the Caelian hill. The mistrust and the severity which Rome displayed against these two men leads one to think that Rome would have shown the same ingratitude as Athens, had she, like Athens, in her early days and before she grew, been injured by her own citizens. That there may be no need to return to this question of ingratitude, I shall make such further remarks as are necessary in the next chapter.

Book One, Discourse 29. Which is the more ungrateful, a People or a Prince?

With respect to the topic under discussion it seems to me relevant to inquire whether ingratitude is better exemplified by a people or by a prince. The better to discuss this I premise that the vice of ingratitude arises either from avarice or from suspicion. For when a people or a prince has entrusted the command of an important enterprise to one of their generals and he is victorious and so acquires much glory, that prince or that people is under an obligation to reward him for this. Hence if, instead of rewarding him, they are discourteous to him or give him offence, and it be avarice that moves them to it in that it is greed that restrains them from giving effect to their desire to satisfy him, in acting thus they commit an error for which there is no excuse, and which is attended with lasting infamy. Yet there are found many princes who offend in this way. Cornelius Tacitus tells us the cause of this when he says ‘One is more inclined to repay injuries than benefits; for it is burdensome to grant favours, but revenge is profitable.’

But when their motive for not rewarding him, or rather for giving him offence, is not avarice, but suspicion, there is in that case some excuse both for a people and a prince. Of ingratitude arising from this cause numerous examples are to be found in history, for the general who by his valoura has extended his lord’s dominions, vanquished his enemies, won glory for himself and riches for his troops, must needs acquire such a reputation alike with his troops, with the enemy, and with that prince’s own subjects, that the victory may not look so good to the lord under whose orders he acted. And because men are by nature both ambitious and suspicious, and know not how to use moderation where their fortunes are concerned, it is impossible that the suspicion aroused in a prince after the victory of one of his generals should not be increased by any arrogance in manner or speech displayed by the man himself. This being so, the prince cannot but look to his own security, and to this end consider putting him to death or depriving him of the standing he has thus obtained with his army and with his people by industriously pointing out that the victory was not gained by the general’s valour, but by luck, or by the cowardice of the enemy or by the prudence of other officers associated with him in the action.

When Vespasian, then in Judea, was proclaimed emperor by his army, Antonius Primus, who found himself with another army in Illyria, took Vespasian’s part and came to Italy to attack Vitellius, who was ruling in Rome. With the utmost virtuosity he broke two of Vitellius’s armies and occupied Rome. Hence Mucianus, Vespasian’s deputy, found that through Antonius’s valour everything had been acquired and all difficulties overcome. The reward which Antonius got was at once to be deprived of his command of the army by Mucianus, and step by step to be reduced to a position of no authority in Rome. When he went to see Vespasian, who was still in Asia, his reception was such that before long he became just a nobody and died in despair.

History is full of such cases. Everybody at present alive knows how in our time Gonsalvo Ferrante, when fighting against the French in the kingdom of Naples on behalf of Ferdinand, king of Aragon, by his industry and valour conquered and overcame that kingdom; and how the reward he got for his victory was that, when Ferdinand left Aragon and came to Naples, he relieved him of his command of the army in the field, then took from him the fortresses and brought him with him to Spain, where shortly afterwards he died in ignominy. This natural suspicion is, therefore, in princes so intense that there is no defence against it, and it is impossible for princes to show gratitude to those who by victory have made great conquests under the flag of their prince.

Since a prince cannot help himself in this matter it is not to be marvelled at, nor is it a matter more worthy of remark, if a people cannot help itself. Because a city in which freedom prevails has two ends in view. One is to enlarge its dominions; the other is to keep itself free. In both it can err by excess. The errors made in expanding will be discussed hi their proper place.22 The errors made in the cause of liberty are, among others, these: giving offence to citizens who should be rewarded, and the suspecting of citizens in whom confidence should be placed. Both lines of conduct in a republic which is already corrupt may occasion great evils and the coming of tyranny is thereby often accelerated, as happened in Rome when Caesar took by force what ingratitude had denied to him. Nevertheless in a republic which is not corrupt they are highly beneficial and promote the cause of freedom, for owing to the fear of punishment men stay better and less ambitious for a longer time.

Of all peoples who have ever had an empire, Rome was the least ungrateful for the reasons given above, of its ingratitude but one instance can be cited, that of Scipio. For Coriolanus and Camillus were banished on account of the injuries which in each case they had done to the plebs. Moreover, though one of them was not pardoned owing to his having always maintained a hostile attitude towards the populace, the other was not only recalled, but during the rest of his life was treated like a prince. The ingratitude with which Scipio was treated, on the other hand, arose from the suspicion which the citizens began to have of him, but which they had not felt towards others. This was due to the greatness of the enemy which Scipio had defeated, to the reputation which he had acquired by his victory after so long and so dangerous a war, to the speed with which he had gained it, and to the favours which his youth, his prudence, and his other remarkable virtues were winning for him. All this was so striking that to say the least the magistrates grew afraid of his authority. This displeased the wiseheads since it was a thing to which Rome was unused. So extraordinary, indeed, did his career seem to be that Cato the Elder, reputably a holy man, was the first to criticize him on the ground that a city could not be called free in which there was a citizen of whom the magistrates were afraid. Hence, if the people of Rome took in this matter the same view as Cato, there is some excuse for them, as I have said above of those peoples and those princes whose ingratitude is due to suspicion.

In bringing this discourse to a close, then, I say that since this vice of ingratitude is occasioned either by avarice or by suspicion, it will be found that peoples never display it owing to avarice, and that, owing to suspicion, they display it much more rarely than do princes, because peoples have less ground for suspicion, as will be explained later.23

Book One, Discourse 30. What Steps should be taken by a Prince or by a Republic to avoid this Vice of Ingratitude, and what should be done by a General or by a Citizen who does not want to suffer from it

To avoid the necessity of having to spend his life suspecting people and displaying ingratitude, a prince should go in person on any expedition, as in the beginning the Roman emperors did, as in our day the Turk does, and as courageous princes both have done and still do. Because, if they win, both the glory and the territory gained is wholly theirs; but, if they are not there, the glory is another’s, and they feel the glory of that other, they cannot make use of the acquisition until they obliterate a glory which they did not know how to acquire. So they become ungrateful and unjust, and thus unquestionably lose more than they gain. But when they stay idly at home owing to negligence or lack of prudence, and send a general in their stead, I have no maxim to give them other than that which they can find out for themselves.

But to the general I would point out that, since he cannot in my opinion escape the jaws of ingratitude, he should do one of two things. Either he should, immediately after the victory, quit the army and place himself in the hands of his prince, abstaining from any act savouring of arrogance or ambition, so that his prince may have no ground for suspicion and in consequence will either reward him or at least refrain from harming him. Or, if this does not appear to him to be the thing to do, let him strenuously do just the opposite, i.e. use every means he thinks appropriate to make the acquisition his own and not his prince’s: ingratiate himself with soldiers and with subjects, enter into friendly relations with neighbouring powers, put his own men in possession of fortresses, corrupt the leading officers of his army, and make sure of those whom he cannot corrupt; and in such-like ways seek to punish his master for the ingratitude he might perhaps display towards him. There are no other alternatives. But, as has already been remarked, men know not how to be either wholly bad or wholly good. Hence it always happens that after a victory generals are loath at once to give up their command and find it impossible to behave modestly, yet hesitate to resort to violent measures which may win him honour so that owing to the ambiguity of their position while they hesitate and doubt, they are overcome.

For a republic which desires to avoid the vice of ingratitude, it is not possible to prescribe the same remedies as for a prince, i.e. that they should accompany, not send out, expeditions, for they are obliged to put one of their citizens in command. The remedy I should prescribe in their case, therefore, is that they should keep to the methods used by the republic of Rome, methods which caused it to display less ingratitude than any other. This was the result of the way in which it was governed, for in time of war it availed itself of everybody in the city, whether they were nobles or not nobles, and in consequence there was always to be found in Rome at any given epoch so many virtuous mena with various victories to their name that the people had no cause to be dubious in regard to any of them, since there were so many that one looked after the other. In fact, so carefully did they maintain their integrity and so studious were they to avoid the least semblance of ambition lest it should cause the populace to attack them as ambitious persons, that, when there came to be a dictator, he acquired the more fame the sooner he resigned. Wherefore, since behaviour of this kind could not render men suspect, they did not evoke ingratitude. A republic, then, which does not want to have ground for ingratitude, should be governed as Rome was governed; and a citizen who wishes to escape the jaws of ingratitude should keep within the bounds to which Roman citizens kept.

Book One, Discourse 31. Roman Generals were never punished with Extreme Severity for their Mistakes; nor yet were they ever punished for Ignorance or Bad Judgement even though it caused Harm to the Republic

The Romans, as we have said in an earlier discourse, were not only less ungrateful than other republics; they were also more considerate and more careful in punishing the commanders of armies than was any other republic. For even if they had made a mistake with evil intent, their punishment was still humane; while, if it was due to ignorance, the Romans did not punish, but rewarded and honoured the person concerned. This mode of procedure met with their approval because they held it to be of supreme importance to those who commanded their armies, that in mind they should be free and unembarrassed, and should not have to concern themselves with irrelevant matters in arriving at their decisions, for they did not wish to add fresh difficulties and dangers to what was already a difficult and dangerous task, since, were they thus encumbered, there would be none who would ever act virtuously. Take, for instance, the army they sent against Philip of Macedon in Greece,24 or against Hannibal in Italy, or against the peoples whom first they conquered. The commander who was put in charge of such an expedition had enough to do with the cares attendant upon such a grave and highly important undertaking. Now, if to such cares had been added the recollection of cases in which the Romans had crucified or otherwise put to death those who had lost the day, it would have been impossible for a general, with such a prospect in mind, to give his whole attention to the matter in hand. It was held, therefore, that to such men the ignominy of having lost would be a sufficient punishment, so they preferred not to alarm them by imposing other and greater punishments.

Here is an example of an error which was not committed through ignorance. Sergius and Virginius were encamped before Veii, each in charge of a section of the army. Sergius was on a route along which the Tuscans might come to attack him. Virginius was on the other side of the city. What happened was that, when Sergius was attacked by the Falisci and other tribes, he let himself be put to rout rather than ask Virginius for help; and, on his part, Virginius, anticipating Sergius’ humiliation, preferred to witness his country’s dishonour and the destruction of Sergius’ army rather than come to his assistance. It was a case of obvious misconduct of which notice must be taken, and one that would give a bad impression of the Roman republic if neither of the two commanders had been punished. Actually, whereas any other republic would have inflicted capital punishment, Rome imposed on them a fine. This was not because their offences did not merit a greater punishment, but because the Romans preferred in this case, for the aforesaid reasons, to abide by their ancient customs.

Of errors due to ignorance there is no finer example than that of Varro, owing to whose rashness the Romans were routed by Hannibal at Cannae, whereby the freedom of that republic was endangered. None the less, because he was guilty of ignorance, not malice, not only did they not punish him, but they honoured him, and everyone of senatorial rank went to meet him on his return to Rome. Since on the battle they could scarce congratulate him, they congratulated him on his return and on his refusal to regard Rome’s situation as desperate. When Papirius Cursor wanted to put Fabius to death for having engaged the Samnites contrary to his orders, among other arguments used by Fabius’ father to combat the dictator’s obstinacy, he urged that when defeats had been incurred by their commanders, the Roman people had never done what Papirius wanted to do on the occasion of a victory.

Book One, Discourse 32. Neither a Republic nor a Prince should put off conferring Benefits on People until danger is at hand

Admittedly the Romans were fortunate in that they managed to be generous to the populace when danger arose. Thus, when Porsenna came to attack Rome to restore the Tarquins and the senate doubted whether the plebs would not prefer to welcome back the kings rather than go to war, for security’s sake it remitted the duty on salt and other burdens, alleging that the poor did enough to help the public cause by bringing up their children; and admittedly by conferring this benefit it induced them to stand siege, hunger and war. Let no one, however, relying on this case, put off making sure of the populace until the time of danger arrives, because he may not, as the Romans did, succeed in this. For the people as a whole will not consider that they owe this benefit to you, but rather to your enemies, and, since they cannot but fear that, when the need has passed, you may deprive them of what you have been compelled to give, will in no way feel obliged to you.

The reason why the Romans turned this question to good account, was because the government was new and not yet stabilized. The populace had seen how laws had already been made to their advantage, for instance the right of appealing to the plebs, so that it was possible to persuade it that this benefit had been conferred not so much because the enemy were at their gates as because the senate was inclined to confer benefits on it. Besides this, it still retained a vivid recollection of the kings by whom it had been downtrodden and maltreated. But, since such causes are rarely operative, it will rarely happen that such remedies are of avail.

Hence every government, whether it be republican or of the princely type, should consider beforehand what adverse times may befall him and on what people it may have to rely in time of adversity, and should in its dealings with them act in that way in which it judges that it will be compelled to act should misfortune befall. A government which acts otherwise – whether it be a prince or a republic, but especially if it be a prince, – i.e. a government which thinks that it is only when danger has arisen that it should win men over by the conferring of benefits, is mistaken; for not only will it fail to win them over, but it will hasten its own ruin.

Book One, Discourses 33–36: The Use and Abuse of Dictatorship

Book One, Discourse 33. When either within a State or against a State an Inconvenience has made Headway, the Safer Course is to temporize, not to suppress it

When the Roman republic grew in reputation, power and dominion, its neighbours, who had not at first thought this new republic would do them much harm, began too late to realize their mistake, and, with a view to remedying what they had not remedied at the outset, they formed a league of full forty peoples against Rome. Whereupon from among the remedies which they were accustomed to use when danger was imminent, the Romans chose to appoint a dictator, i.e. to give power to some one man to make decisions without consulting others and to carry them out without anyone having the right to appeal. This remedy not only proved useful at the time, and enabled them to overcome the dangers still threatening, but was always of the greatest help in all those eventualities which from time to time betokened ill to the republic as its empire grew.

In regard to such events the first thing to notice is that, when an inconvenience which has arisen within a republic, or is affecting it adversely owing either to internal or external causes, has become so great that everybody begins to get alarmed, by far the safer course is to temporize in its regard, and not try to eradicate it straightway. For, as usual, those who try to suppress it, cause it to grow stronger and speed up the evils which they anticipate and dread.

Events of this kind are more often due in a republic to an internal cause than to an external, for in it very often either a citizen is allowed to acquire more power than is reasonable, or corruption is introduced in the administration of some law on which the nerve and life-blood of freedom depends; and this blunder is allowed to go on till it reaches such a pass that to attempt to remedy it is more harmful than to let it take its course. To discern such inconveniences in their initial stage is the more difficult the more men are by nature inclined to look with favour on new enterprises; a favour which is likely to be bestowed, above all else, on enterprises which seem to have in them a certain virilitya and which are taken up by young men. For, if in a republic there appears some youth of noble birth and outstanding virtue, the eyes of every citizen at once turn towards him, and without further consideration they agree to show him honour; so that, if in him there is a spark of ambition, the favours bestowed on him by nature conjoin with these events to place him in such a position that, when the citizens come to see their mistake, there is but small chance of their putting it right; and any attempt to apply such remedies as they have, does but tend to establish more quickly his power.

Of this it would be possible to adduce plenty of instances, but I propose to give only one from in our city. Cosimo de’ Medici, with whom the greatness of the house of Medici in this our city began, acquired great repute thanks to favours gained by his own prudence and through the ignorance of the citizens. He thus began to arouse alarm for the security of its government; with the result that his fellow-citizens thought it dangerous to touch him, and still more dangerous to let him alone. But there lived in those days one, Niccolò da Uzzano, who was looked on as an expert in politics. He had made the first of the above mistakes in that he had not recognized the dangers to which Cosimo’s reputation might lead, but while he lived he never allowed the second one to be made; that is, that anyone should attempt to get rid of him; since he was convinced that such an attempt would mean the utter ruin of their government, as in fact it was seen to do after his death. For the citizens who survived him failed to follow his advice, grew bold in their opposition to Cosimo, and drove him out of

Florence. It thus came about that his faction, resenting this injustice, recalled him shortly afterwards, and made him the ‘prince’ of that republic, a rank to which he would never have been able to rise except for this open opposition.

The same thing happened at Rome in the case of Caesar, whose virtue won for him such favour with Pompey and others that before long this favour gave place to fear; to which Cicero bears witness when he says that Pompey had too late begun to fear Caesar. This fear caused people to look for remedies, but the remedies they applied did but accelerate the ruin of their republic.

I claim, therefore, that since it is difficult to recognize such evils in the initial stage owing to the false impression new enterprizes make on you at the outset, when they are recognized the wiser course is to temporize rather than to oppose them by force. Because, if one temporizes, either the trouble disappears of its own accord, or at least disaster is postponed for a considerable time. In all such matters rulers who plan to remedy the evils or to attack them direct by means of force, should keep their eyes open lest, instead of causing them to decrease, they cause them to increase, and in the belief that they are repelling them make them grow, – as if one could suffocate a plant by sprinkling it with water. Rather should the strength of the disease be considered well, and, if you see that you can cure it, you should set about it without further ado. But otherwise should let it be, and in no wise interfere, lest that happen which, as we have said above, happened to Rome’s neighbours, for whom it would have been safer when Rome’s power had grown so strong, to have sought by peaceful methods to placate it and bold it back, rather than by preparing for war to make Rome think out new institutions and new plans for her defence. For by this league of theirs all they did was to make the Romans more united, more on their guard, and more keen on finding new devices whereby the more quickly to increase their power. Among which was the appointment of a dictator, whereby the Romans were enabled not only to overcome their present dangers, but to obviate a multitude of evils which would have befallen that republic had not this remedy been available.

Book One, Discourse 34. Dictatorial Authority did Good, not Harm, to the Republic of Rome: it is the Authority which Citizens arrogate to Themselves, not that granted by Free Suffrage, that is harmful to Civic Life

Those Romans who were responsible for the institution of a dictatorship in Rome are condemned by some Roman writers who find in the dictatorship the cause which eventually led to tyranny in Rome. They point out that the person who became its first tyrant, had authority there in virtue of his title as dictator, and assert that, if it had not been for this, Caesar would not have succeeded under any other public title in making his tyranny look honest and above board.

The case, however, was not well examined by the person who held this view, and the view has been accepted without good ground. For it was neither the name nor the rank of the dictator that made Rome servile, but the loss of authority of which the citizens were deprived by the length of his rule. If in Rome there had been no such rank, the dictator would have found some other; for it is easy for force to acquire a title, but not for a title to acquire force.

It is clear that the dictatorship, so long as it was bestowed in accordance with public institutions, and not assumed by the dictator on his own authority, was always of benefit to the state. For it is magistrates that are made and authority that is given in irregular ways that is prejudicial to a republic, not that which is given in the ordinary way, as is clear from the fact that during a very long period in Rome’s history, no dictator ever did anything but good to that republic.25

The reasons for this are obvious. First, if a citizen is to do harm and is to obtain extraordinary authority, he must have many attributes which in a republic that is not corrupt it will be impossible for him to acquire; for he will need to be very rich and to have numerous adherents and partisans, which he cannot have so long as the laws are observed; and, even if he had them, men of this kind are so dreaded that people would not freely vote for him.

Furthermore, a dictator was appointed for a limited time, and for the purpose of dealing solely with such matters as had led to the appointment. He had authority to make what decisions he thought fit in order to meet a definite and urgent danger, and to do this without consultation; and anyone he punished had no right of appeal. But he could do nothing to diminish the constitutional position of the government, as would have been the case if he could have taken away the authority vested in the senate or in the people, or have abolished the ancient institutions of the city and made new ones. Wherefore, in view of the short duration of the dictatorship, of the limited authority which the dictator possessed, and of the fact that the Roman people were not corrupt, it was impossible for the dictator to overstep his terms of reference and to do the state harm. On the contrary, experience has shown that the dictatorship was always useful.

Actually, then, of Rome’s various institutions this is one that deserves to be considered and ranked among those to which the greatness of Rome’s vast empire was due. For without such an institution cities will with difficulty find a way out of abnormal situations. For the institutions normally used by republics are slow in functioning. No assembly nor magistrate can do everything alone. In many cases they have to consult one another, and to reconcile their diverse views takes time. Where there is question of remedying a situation which will not brook delay, such a procedure is most dangerous.

Republics, therefore, ought to have among their institutions some device akin to this. The republic of Venice, which ranks high among modern republics, has reserved to a few of its citizens authority to deal with urgent questions with regard to which, if they all agree, they can make decisions without reference to any other body. Whereas in a republic in which no such provision is made, it is necessary either to stand by the constitution and be ruined, or to violate it and not be ruined. But that events should happen in a republic which have to be dealt with by extraordinary measures, is not desirable; for though the extraordinary measures may do good at the time, the precedent thus established is bad, since it sanctions the usage of dispensing with constitutional methods for a good purpose, and thereby makes it possible, on some plausible pretext, to dispense with them for a bad purpose. No republic is ever perfect unless by its laws it has provided for all contingencies, and for every eventuality has provided a remedy and determined the method of applying it.

In conclusion, then, I claim that republics which, when in imminent danger, have recourse neither to a dictatorship, nor to some form of authority analogous to it, will always be ruined when grave misfortune befalls them.

In the matter of this new institution, the great wisdom which the Romans displayed in the method of electing to it, is to be noted. For, since the appointment of a dictator was in a way a reflection on the consuls, who, though at the head of the state, had to obey like everyone else, and since it was assumed that this might arouse resentment among the citizens, the Romans decided that the power to appoint a dictator should lie with the consuls; for they thought that, when circumstances became such that Rome had need of this royal prerogative, they would have to make the appointment of their own accord, and, since they themselves had made the appointment, it would pain them less. Because wounds and other ills which are inflicted of one’s own accord and choice, grieve you much less than those that are inflicted on you by others. Besides, during the last period, instead of appointing a dictator, the Romans used to invest the consul with dictatorial authority, with the words: ‘Let the consul see to it that the republic takes no harm.’

I close with a remark relevant to the matter we are discussing. It was Rome’s neighbours who in their desire to crush her, caused her to set up institutions which not only enabled her to defend herself but also to attack them with greater force, counsel and authority.

Book One, Discourse 35. How it came about that the Appointment of the Decemviri in Rome was harmful to that Republic in spite of their having been appointed by Free and Public Suffrage

To what was said in the preceding discourse as to the authority which is seized with violence, not that which is obtained by suffrage, being harmful to republics, the election of the ten citizens which the Roman people instituted that they might draw up laws for Rome, appears to be incompatible; for in course of time they became tyrants, and, regardless of everybody and everything, deprived Rome of her liberty. The way in which the authority was conferred and the period for which it was granted must here be taken into account. When unrestricted authority is given for a long time, where by a long time I mean a year or more, it may always be dangerous, and will produce good or bad effects according as those to whom it is given are evil or good. Now, if we look at the authority which the Ten had and at that which the dictators had, it will be seen that the authority of the Ten was incomparably greater. For, when a dictator was appointed, the tribunes, the consuls, the senate, with their respective powers, remained; nor could the dictator take them away. He had, indeed, the power to deprive any one person of the consulate or of his senatorial rank, but he could not annul a decree of the senate, nor could he make new laws. The result was that, as the authority of the senate, the consuls and the tribunes still stood, they came to be, as it were, his guardians, to see that he kept to the straight path. Quite the contrary happened when the Ten were appointed; for the appointment of consuls and tribunes was suspended, and the Ten were given power to make laws and in general to act as if they were the Roman people. So that, finding themselves on their own, without consuls, without tribunes, and without there being any appeal to the people, and that, in consequence, there was no one to look after them, they were able in their second year, urged on by the ambition of Appius, to become arrogant.

It should be noted, then, that in saying that authority, granted by free suffrage, never harms any republic, it is presumed that a people is never persuaded to give it except under certain conditions and for a specified time. But when, whether by mistake or owing to some other contributory cause, a republic is persuaded to give it imprudently, in the way in which the Roman people gave it to the Ten, the same thing will happen as happened in their case. This is easily proved if we consider what causes kept dictators good and what made the Ten bad; and if we consider further how those states which are looked upon as well-ordered, acted when they gave a long-termed authority, as the Spartans did to their kings and as the Venetians do to their doges. For it would appear that in both these cases supervisors were appointed to see to it that they should not be able to abuse their authority. Nor to the autocrat is it of any consequence whether the material be corrupt, for absolute power will very soon corrupt it by making friends and partisans. Nor yet does it hurt him to be poor or without lineage, for riches and every other advantage will at once accrue to him, as will be shown when we come to discuss in detail the aforesaid Decemviri.

Book One, Discourse 36. Citizens who have held Higher Posts should not disdain to accept Lower

In the consulship of Marcus Fabius and G. Manlius the Romans gained a most glorious victory over the Veientes and the Etruscans, in which Quintus Fabius, the consul’s brother, was killed. Quintus had been consul in the previous year. It may be seen from this how well the institutions of this city were adapted to make it great, and how mistaken are other republics which dispense with this procedure. For, though the Romans had a great esteem for glory, yet they did not deem it an unworthy thing to obey one who had previously been under their command, nor to serve in an army of which they had formerly been commanders in chief.

In the views, institutions, and practice of citizens in our day, this custom is reversed. Venice even makes the mistake of thinking that a citizen who has held high office, should be ashamed to accept a lower; and the state is content that he should decline to accept it. This course, though it may be honourable from the standpoint of a private citizen, is of no use whatsoever from the public standpoint. For a republic rightly places more hope and confidence in a citizen who from a high command descends to a lower, than in one who from a lower command rises to a higher; since on the latter they cannot reasonably rely unless in his entourage they see men so respected and of such virtue that by their advice and authority his inexperience(a) may be corrected.

Had there been in Rome the custom which obtains in Venice and in other modern republics and kingdoms, that a person who had once been consul would never want to serve in the army except as consul, numberless events might have happened which would have endangered its freedom, both through the mistakes which the new men would have made, and through the ambition to which they could have the better given rein had they not had around them men in whose presence they were afraid to do wrong. For in that case they would have been more free, and might have used their power to the detriment of the public.

Book One, Discourses 37–39: The Road to Ruin

Book One, Discourse 37. On the Troubles to which the Agrarian Laws gave rise in Rome; and how great is the Trouble given in a Republic by passing a Law that is too Retrospective and Contravenes an Ancient Custom of the City

Ancient writers were of opinion that men are wont to get annoyed with adversity and fed up with prosperity, both of which passions give rise to the same effects. For, whenever there is no need for men to fight, they fight for ambition’s sake; and so powerful is the sway that ambition exercises over the human heart that it never relinquishes them, no matter how high they have risen. The reason is that nature has so constituted men that, though all things are objects of desire, not all things are attainable; so that desire always exceeds the power of attainment, with the result that men are ill content with what they possess and their present state brings them little satisfaction. Hence arise the vicissitudes of their fortune. For, since some desire to have more and others are afraid to lose what they have already acquired, enmities and wars are begotten, and this brings about the ruin of one province and the exaltation of its rival.

I have made these preliminary remarks because the Roman plebs were not content with having made their position secure in regard to the nobles by the creation of tribunes, which necessity constrained them to demand; but, having acquired them, at once began to quarrel with the nobles out of ambition, and to demand also a share in the distribution of honours and of propertya than which man esteems nothing more highly. This grew into a disease, which led to the dispute about the Agrarian Law and in the end caused the destruction of the republic.

Now, in as much as well-ordered republics have to keep the public rich but their citizens poor,26 it looks as if in the city of Rome this law was defective, either because it had not been so made at the outset as to prevent the need of going back on it, or because the making of it had been so long deferred that to deal now with an old difficulty gave trouble, or because, though well drawn up at the outset, in practice it had become corrupted. Anyhow, it came about that, whenever this law was mentioned in Rome, everything was turned topsy-turvy in that city.

The provisions made by this law fell under two heads. It provided first that no citizen should be allowed to possess above so many acres of land; and, secondly, that all the lands that were taken from an enemy should be divided among the Roman people. This gave offence to the nobility in two ways; for those who possessed more land than the law allowed – and they were the greater part of the nobility – were to be deprived of the overplus; and the sharing of enemy goods among the plebs put a stop to their chance of enriching themselves. Wherefore, since these provisions gave offence to powerful men, and it seemed to them that, in opposing the law, they were acting in the public interest, whenever the question cropped up the whole city was turned topsy-turvy, as has been said. Patiently and industriously the nobles sought to put the matter off, either by setting out with an army for foreign parts, or by setting up another tribune against the tribune who proposed the law, or sometimes by a partial concession, or again by sending a colony out to the place where the land was to be distributed. This happened, for instance, in regard to the lands round about Antium, which had given rise to a controversy about the law; for a colony, drawn from Rome, was sent there, to which the lands in that neighbourhood were assigned. In regard to this Titus Livy makes a remark worth mentioning. He says that in Rome it was difficult to get men to put their names down to go with the colony, and observes that the plebs were much more keen on voicing in Rome their desire for things than they were in taking possession of them at Antium.

Dissatisfaction with this law for a time went on causing trouble in Rome, until the Romans began to lead their armies to the more remote parts of Italy, and beyond it, when for some time it seems to have ceased. This was because the lands which the enemies of Rome possessed, being far away from where any of its plebs lived and in places where it was not easy to cultivate them, the plebs came to be less keen on having them; and again because the Romans were less severe in punishing their enemies by such deprivations, and because, when they did despoil a place of the lands in its neighbourhood, they were distributed among colonists. This being so, the Agrarian law lay dormant until the time of the Gracchi, and, when they raised it again, it spelt the complete destruction of Rome’s liberty. For by that time the power of its adversaries was twice as great, and, as a result, the mutual hatred existent between the plebs and the senate was so intense that it led to armed conflict and bloodshed, in which neither moderation nor respect for civic customs was shown. So that, the public magistrates being unable to find a remedy and none of the factions having any longer any confidence in them, recourse was had to private remedies, and each party began to look out for some chief to head and defend it.

In this scandal and disorder the plebs took the first step by staking its reputation on Marius, to such effect that it made him four times consul. His consulship was in fact continuous, except for short intervals, and this enabled him on his own authority to appoint himself consul on three other occasions. As the nobility had no other remedy whereby to counteract this pest, they took to backing Sulla, and, when he was made the head of their party, civil war broke out, and in it, after much bloodshed and many changes of fortune, the nobility got the upper hand.

These animosities were revived in the time of Caesar and Pompey. For, when Caesar became the head of the Marian party and Pompey the head of Sulla’s, they came to blows, and Caesar got the best of it, and so became Rome’s first tyrant. After which that city never again recovered its liberties.

Such, then, was the beginning, and such the end of the Agrarian law. Elsewhere we have shown that it was enmity between the senate and populace of Rome that kept Rome free, because it was owing to this that

laws were made in favour of liberty. And, though with this conclusion the result of the Agrarian Law may seem to be incompatible, I must confess that I am not on this account inclined to change my opinion, for, so great is the ambition of the great that unless in a city they are kept down by various ways and means, that city will soon be brought to ruin. Hence, if it was fully three hundred years before the Agrarian Law led to the servitude of Rome, it would, perchance, have led to servitude much sooner, had not the plebs by means of this law and by other demands prompted by their appetites, always kept the ambition of the nobles in check.

It is also clear from this that men set much greater store on property than on honours. For the Roman nobility always gave way to the plebs in the matter of honours without causing serious troubles; but, when it came to property, so great was the obstinacy with which they defended it, that in order to satisfy their appetites the plebs had recourse to those irregular means which have been mentioned above. To this disorderly conduct they were moved by the Gracchi, whose intention is more praiseworthy than was their prudence. For to seek to remove a disorder which has grown inveterate in a commonwealth by making a law that is too retrospective is not a wise course to adopt, and, as has been explained at length above, serves but to accelerate the evil to which the disorder is urging you on; whereas, by temporizing, either the evil will be postponed, or by this means it will in course of time spend itself before it reaches a head.

Book One, Discourse 38. Weak Republics suffer from Irresolution and cannot reach Decisions; and, when they do arrive at one, it is due rather to Necessity than to Choice

When there was a very great pestilence in Rome and for this reason it seemed to the Volsci and the Aequi that the time had come for them to be able to overcome Rome, these two peoples got together a very big army, attacked the Latins and the Hernici, and laid waste their territory, so that they were forced to turn to Rome and to beg the Romans to defend them. The Romans, burdened by the epidemic, replied that the Latins and the Hernici had better look to their own defence, using their own forces, since they were unable to defend them. This shows the generosity and the prudence of the Roman senate; and how, whatever happened, it always wanted to take the lead in the decisions which those dependent on it had to make and how it was never ashamed to adopt a course which was contrary to its usual procedure and to other decisions it had made, when necessity required it.

I say this because on other occasions the same senate had forbidden these peoples to arm in their own defence, so that by a senate less prudent than was this, it would have been regarded as a loss of dignity to allow them thus to defend themselves. The Roman senate, however, always faced facts as they should be faced, and always took the lesser evil to be the better alternative. For bad as it felt it to be not to be able to defend its own subjects, and bad as it felt it to be that subjects should have recourse to arms without them, none the less for the reasons given and many others that are obvious, recognizing that with the enemy at their doors they must needs fly to arms in any case, it did the honourable thing, preferring that what they had to do should be done with Rome’s permission, so that having disobeyed because needs must, they should not get into the habit of disobeying by choice.

But though it would seem that this alternative ought to be adopted by any republic, the fact remains that weak and ill-advised republics neither know how to adopt it nor how to derive honour from such occasions of necessity. Duke Valentine had taken Faenza and made Bologna submit to his terms. Then, since he wanted to return to Rome via Tuscany, he sent one of his men to Florence to ask leave for himself and his army to pass through. A consultation was held in Florence as to what should be done in the matter, and no one advised that leave should be granted. Now, this was not in accord with Roman procedure; for the Duke had armed forces of very great strength, whereas the Florentines were so badly armed mat they could not prevent his passage. Hence it would have accorded far better with their honour to have seemed to allow his passage of their own accord, rather than be forced to it; for, whereas it brought on them nothing but shame, there would have been less of it had they managed things differently.

But the worst thing about weak republics is that they are irresolute, so that all the choices they make, they are forced to make: and, if they should happen to do the right thing, it is force, not their own good sense, that makes them do it. I will give two examples which occurred in our day to the government of our city.(a)

In 1500 King Louis XII of France, having retaken Milan, was ready to restore Pisa for the fifty thousand ducats which had been promised to him by the Florentines on its recovery. So he sent his armies to Pisa under the command of Monsieur de Beaumont, who, though a Frenchman, was none the less a man in whom the Florentines had considerable trust. The army and its commander took up a position between Cascina and Pisa, that they might proceed to attack its walls. While waiting a day or so to prepare for the attack, Pisan envoys came to Beaumont and offered to surrender the city to the French troops on these terms: he was to promise, on the king’s word, not to hand the city over to the Florentines for four months. This offer was turned down altogether by the Florentines, so that the net result was a journey to lay siege to Pisa and their departure in shame. The only reason for declining this offer was that the Florentines did not trust the king’s word. Their policy had been so weak that they had been forced to put themselves in the king’s hands, yet they did not trust him. Nor did they see that it was better for the king to be in Pisa and to hand that city over, or, by failing to do so, to disclose his intentions, than for him to promise it them when he hadn’t yet got it, and for them to be forced to pay for the promises. Hence they would have done much better to have agreed to Beaumont’s taking it under whatever conditions.

A similar incident occurred afterwards in 1502, when Arezzo was in revolt, and the Kings of France sent Monsieur Imbault with a French army to the help of the Florentines. Having reached the neighbourhood of Arezzo, he began before long to discuss terms with the people of Arezzo, who were ready to surrender the town under certain conditions, just as the Pisans had been. In Florence the offer was turned down. When Monsieur Imbault saw this, it seemed to him that the Florentines had not shown much sense, so he began to discuss terms on his own account, without informing the commissioners. In this he was so successful that a treaty was made to his liking, under which he entered Arezzo with his army, and gave the Florentines to understand that they were mad and had no understanding of the ways of the world. If they wanted Arezzo, they should apply to the king, who was in a better position to give it them now that his army was in the city, than when it was outside. In Florence there was no end to the cutting remarks and vituperation showered on Imbault; nor did it stop until at length they realized that, if Beaumont had been like Imbault, they might have had Pisa as well as Arezzo.

In regard, then, to the question under discussion, irresolute republics never choose the right alternative unless they are driven to it, for their weakness does not allow them to arrive at a decision where there is any doubt; and, unless this doubt is removed by some compelling act of violence, they remain ever in suspense.

Book One, Discourse 39. To Different Peoples the same sort of Thing is often found to happen

If the present be compared with the remote past, it is easily seen that in all cities and in all peoples there are the same desires and the same passions as there always were. So that, if one examines with diligence the past, it is easy to foresee the future of any commonwealth, and to apply those remedies which were used of old; or, if one does not find that remedies were used, to devise new ones owing to the similarity between events. But, since such studies are neglected and what is read is not understood, or, if it be understood, is not applied in practice by those who rule, the consequence is that similar troubles occur at all times.

Since the city of Florence after ’94 lost part of its dominions, e.g. Pisa and other towns, it had to make war on those who had occupied them. And, because those who had occupied them were powerful, the result of the war was considerable expense and no fruit; from the expense there resulted heavy taxation; and from the heavy taxation endless complaints by the populace. Since this war was administered by a magistracy consisting of ten citizens, called ‘the Ten of War’, the public in general began to be disgusted with it in that it was responsible both for the war and for the expense. They were convinced that, if this magistracy was abolished, there would be an end to the war; so, when the time came to re-elect it, instead of making new appointments they let it lapse, and entrusted their affairs to the Signoria. This decision was so disastrous that not only did it fail to stop the war, as the public in general had expected, but it removed the very men who had been administering it wisely, and led to such confusion that, in addition to Pisa, Arezzo was lost, and many other places. Consequently the people repented their mistake, and since the cause of the trouble was the malady, not the doctor, they reappointed the magistracy of the Ten.

The same passion was aroused in Rome by the title of consul. For, when the people saw one war following on another, and that they never got any rest, they ought to have ascribed it to the ambition of neighbours who were seeking to crush them, whereas they thought it was due to the ambition of nobles who, unable to chastise the plebs within the state where they were protected by the power of the tribunes, were anxious for them to be led forth under consuls that they might oppress them where there was no one to help. For this reason they thought it necessary either to abolish the consuls, or so to regulate their power that they should have no authority over the populace either abroad or at home. The first to propose such a law was Terentillus, a tribune. He proposed that five men should be appointed to investigate the consular power and to set limits to it. This incensed the nobles not a little, for it looked to them as if the majesty of government would vanish altogether, and that to the nobility there would no longer remain any status in the republic. The obstinacy of the tribunes was none the less such that the title or consul was abolished, and, after certain other ordinances had been made, they were at length content to appoint tribunes with consular power instead of consuls, so that what they had really hated was the title rather than the authority of the consuls. This custom was observed for a long time, but at length, realizing their mistake, they again appointed consuls, just as the Florentines returned to the ‘Ten’.

Book One, Discourses 40–45: Sundry Reflections Based on the Decemvirate

Book One, Discourse 40. The Appointment of the Decemvirate in Rome and what is Noteworthy about it; in which will be considered, among other Things, how such an Incident may lead either to a Republic’s Salvation or to its Subjection

Since I am proposing to discuss in detail the events which led to the appointment of the Decemvirate in Rome, it will not be amiss, I think, first to state all that followed on such an appointment, and then to discuss such points as are noteworthy in the behaviour of those concerned; and there are many worthy of a careful consideration alike by those whose aim is to maintain the freedom of a republic and by those who plan to bring it into subjection. For such a discussion will bring to light many mistakes made by the senate and people which were prejudicial to liberty, and many mistakes made by Appius, the head of the Decemvirate, which were prejudicial to the tyranny which he was proposing to set up in Rome.

After many disputes and much conflict between the senate and the populace in Rome in regard to the drawing up of new laws whereby the freedom of that state might be the better stabilized, it was agreed to send Spurius Postumius with two other citizens to Athens for copies of the laws which Solon had given to that city, so that upon them they might base the Roman laws. After their return from this journey, the next step was to appoint men for the purpose of examining and codifying these laws. Ten citizens were appointed for a year; among them Appius Claudius, a sagacious man, but restless. That they might draw up these laws without reference to anyone else all other magistrates in Rome were suspended, in particular the tribunes and the consuls. The right of appeal to the people was also suspended, with the result that his magistracy came to all intents and purposes to be a princedom in Rome. Whereupon, so favoured was Appius by the plebs that the whole authority of his colleagues came to be vested in him; for so popular had he made himself by the attitude he adopted that it looked as if in some extraordinary way he had suddenly acquired a new nature and a new character, for up to this moment he had been a cruel persecutor of the plebs.

The Ten governed at first with due decorum, and had no more than twelve lictors who marched in front of the Decemvir who was acting as president. And, although they had absolute authority, when they had to punish a citizen for homicide they cited him to appear before the people, and left it to them to pronounce judgement. Their laws they wrote on ten tables, and, before they were confirmed, they set them before the public so that everyone might read and discuss them to see if there were any defects, with a view to their being amended before the laws were ratified.

Apropos of this Appius caused a rumour to spread through Rome to the effect that, if to these ten tables two more were added, it would make the codex complete. This suggestion provided the populace with an opportunity to re-appoint the Ten for another year; to which they readily agreed, because consuls would not in that case be re-appointed, and because they thought they could get along without tribunes now that they themselves were judging causes, as has been said above. When, then, the decision had been taken to re-appoint the Ten, all the nobility were keen on getting these honours, with Appius among the foremost, and such was the goodwill he displayed towards the plebs during his election-campaign that his colleagues began to grow suspicious of him. ‘They thought that in view of his great arrogance this hail-fellow-well-met attitude could scarce be genuine.’ Hesitating to oppose him openly, they decided to do it by artifice so, though he was junior to all in point of time, they authorized him to propose the future Ten to the people, thinking that, like others, he would observe the conventions and not propose himself, since in Rome this was not done and was looked on as not quite the thing. ‘Appius, however, seized what was meant to be an obstacle as an opportunity’, and put his own name at the head of the list, to the astonishment and consternation of all the nobility; and after it placed nine other names suited to his purpose.

This fresh appointment, made for another year, began to show the people and the nobility the error of their ways. For at once ‘Appius dropped the disguise he had been wearing’, and began to display his innate arrogance. Nor was it long before his colleagues took up the same line. To overawe the people and the senate they appointed a hundred and twenty lictors instead of the usual twelve.

Fear at this juncture was shared by all alike. Then the Ten began to play up to the senate and to ill-treat the plebs; and, should anyone who had been ill-treated by the one appeal to the other, he was treated worse on appeal than in the first instance. So that the plebs, realizing their mistake, began in their sore affliction to look to the nobles in the hope ‘of regaining a breath of liberty from the source from which they had so dreaded servitude that they had brought the state to this pass’. But to the nobility their affliction was a pleasing sight, for it was likely ‘that, disgusted with the present situation, they would want the consuls back’.

When the second year came to an end, the two tables of laws were ready but had not been published. This provided the Ten with an excuse for continuing their magistracy, and they began to act with violence in order to maintain their status. They made youthful nobles their satellites, and bestowed on them the goods of those they had condemned. ‘With which gifts the youth were corrupted, and preferred licence for themselves to liberty for all.’

It happened at this juncture that the Sabines and the Volsci started to make war on the Romans, and the fear which resulted was such that the Ten began to realize the weakness of their status; for without the senate they could not make preparations for war, and, if they summoned the senate, it looked as if they would lose their position. Actually necessity drove them to adopt this latter course. When the senators had assembled many of them spoke against the arrogance of the Ten, particularly Valerius and Horatius; and there would have been an end altogether to their authority if the senate out of envy for the plebs had not wanted to show its power, for they thought that, if the Ten resigned the magistracy of its own accord, they might be able to prevent the reappointment of tribunes of the plebs. They decided, therefore, on war. Two armies set out, led in part by members of the Ten. Appius remained behind to govern the city. It thus came about that he fell in love with Virginia, whom he was intending to seize by force, but her father, Virginius, killed her in order to save her from this. Disturbances followed alike in Rome and in the armies; which joined with what was left of the Roman plebs, and retired to Mons Sacer, where they remained until the Ten gave up their magistracy and tribunes and consuls were appointed and Rome recovered the form of her ancient liberty.

In the incidents here related it should, therefore, be noticed first of all that the inconvenience involved in the establishment of this tyranny was due to the same causes as are most tyrannies that are set up in cities, namely to the excessive demand of the people for freedom and to the excessive demand to dominate on the part of the nobles. For, when they fail to agree in making a law conducive to liberty, and, instead, one or other of the parties uses its weight to support a particular person, tyranny at once arises. The populace and the nobility in Rome agreed to appoint the Ten, and to invest them with such great authority, owing to the desire which each party had, one to get rid of consular rank and the other to get rid of the tribunate. When they had been appointed and it seemed to the plebs that Appius had become a demagogue and was out to down the nobility, the populace turned to him and gave him its support. But when a people is induced to make the mistake of holding someone in high esteem because he is down on those whom they hold in detestation, and that someone has his wits about him, it will always happen that a tyranny will arise in that city. For he will wait until, with the support of the populace, he has got rid of the nobility, and will not begin to oppress the people until he has got rid of it, by which time the populace will have come to realize that it is a slave and will have no way of escape.

This method has always been adopted by those who have established tyrannies in republics; and, if Appius had kept to it, his tyranny would have had a longer lease of life and would not have collapsed so soon. But he did just the opposite, and could not have behaved more unwisely. For in order to maintain his tyranny he made enemies of those who had given it to him and were able to maintain him in it, and enemies of those who had not been ready to give it to him and who would not have been able to maintain him in it. In this way he lost those who had been his friends, and tried to make friends with those who could not be his friends. For though nobles desire to tyrannize, that part of the nobility which finds itself left out in a tyrannical regime, is always the tyrant’s enemy. Nor can he win them all over, for so great is the ambition and the avarice with which they are imbued, that no tyrant can have enough riches and enough honours to satisfy all. Hence Appius in deserting the populace and courting the nobles made a very obvious mistake, alike for the reasons given above and because an attempt to hold anything by sheer force postulates that he who uses force be more powerful than those upon whom force is used.

It follows that those who have the public as a whole for their friends and the great ones for their enemies are the more secure, in that their violence is backed by a greater force than it is in the case of those who have the populace for an enemy and the nobility for a friend.27 For, if the people be friendly, internal forces suffice for their preservation, as they sufficed in the case of Nabis, tyrant of Sparta, when the whole of Greece and the Roman people attacked him; for Nabis, having made sure of the few nobles, and having the people as his friend, with their help defended himself, which he would not have been able to do had they been enemies. But in the alternative case in which one has but few friends at home, internal forces do not suffice, and one has to seek outside help. This has to be of three kinds: first, foreign satellites to protect your person; secondly, the arming of the countryside to do what should be done by the plebs; and, thirdly, a defensive alliance with powerful neighbours. He who adopts these precautions and does it well, even if his people are hostile, should in some fashion be able to look after himself. But Appius could not manage to make sure of the countryside, for the countryside was the same thing as Rome; and he didn’t know what to do, so that he was done for from the very start.

The senate and the people also made a very great mistake in appointing the Decemviri, for, in spite of what has been said earlier in the discourse which dealt with dictators, to the effect that self-appointed magistrates, not those appointed by the people, are prejudicial to liberty, the people should, none the less, in appointing magistrates, create them so that they hesitate to turn to evil ways. And, whereas they should have appointed guardians to see that they behaved properly, the Romans took the guardians away, for they made the Decemvirate the sole magistracy in Rome, and annulled all others, owing, as we have said above, to the excessive desire of the senate to get rid of tribunes and of the plebs to get rid of consuls, a desire so strong that it blinded them, and caused them to cooperate in the disorderly procedure. For men, as king Ferdinand used to say, resemble certain little birds of prey in whom so strong is the desire to catch the prey which nature incites them to pursue, that they do not notice another and a greater bird of prey which hovers over them ready to pounce and kill. This discourse should make plain, as I promised at the start, the mistake the Roman people made in their endeavour to save their freedom, and the mistakes that Appius made in his endeavour to set up a tyranny.

Book One, Discourse 41. A Sudden Transition from Humility to Pride or from Kindness to Cruelty without Appropriate Steps in between is both Imprudent and Futile

Among other stupid things which Appius did in order to maintain his tyranny, his too sudden change from one character to another is of no small moment. He did well in being so astute as to deceive the plebs by pretending that he was a man of the people. He also effectively employed the means he used to get the Decemviri re-elected. He did well, too, in being so bold as again to stand for office, contrary to the expectation of the nobility. He did well again to appoint colleagues that suited his purpose.

But, though in this he did well, he did not do at all well, as I have pointed out above, in suddenly changing his character from that of a friend of the plebs to that of an open enemy, from being humane to being arrogant, from being easy going to being difficult; and in doing this so quickly that no one had any excuse for failing to recognize the crookedness of his mind. For he who has at one time seemed to be good, and proposes for his own purposes to become bad, should make the change by appropriate stages, so adapting his conduct to circumstances that, before the change in character has robbed you of your old supporters, it may have brought you so many new ones that your power will not be lessened. Otherwise you will find yourself at large without friends, and so will be undone.

Book One, Discourse 42. How easily Men may be Corrupted

It should be noted, too, in the affair of the Decemviri how easily men are corrupted and in nature become transformed, however good they may be and however well taught. Consider, for instance, how the young men whom Appius chose as a bodyguard, soon became the friends of tyranny for the sake of the small advantages which accrued; and how Quintus Fabius, one of the second Ten, though an excellent fellow, was after a while blinded by a little ambition and, under the evil influence of Appius, changed his good habits for bad and became like him.

Due consideration of this will cause all legislators, whether in a republic or a kingdom, to be all the more ready to restrain human appetites and to deprive them of all hope of doing wrong with impunity.

Book One, Discourse 43. Those who fight for Glory’s Sake make Good and Faithful Soldiers

Another point to be considered in connection with the above discourse is what a difference there is between a contented army which fights for the glory of the thing and one that is ill disposed and fights to help on someone’s ambition. For, whereas the Roman armies were accustomed to being victorious under the consuls, under the Decemviri they always lost.

This shows, among other things, the reason why mercenary troops are useless, for they have no cause to stand firm when attacked, apart from the small pay which you give them. And this reason is not and cannot be sufficient to make them loyal, or to make them so much your friends that they should want to die for you. For in armies in which there is no affection for him for whom they are fighting such as would make them his partisans, it will be impossible for them ever to have virtue enough to withstand even a moderately valorous foe. Since neither the requisite love nor the requisite enthusiasm can be aroused except in your own subjects, it is necessary if one desires to retain a form of state, i.e. desires to uphold either a republic or a kingdom, to arm oneself with one’s own subjects, as it is manifest that all have done who by means of armies have reaped great profit.

Under the Ten the Roman armies had the same valour as before, but, because they had not the same disposition towards their rulers, they did not produce the same effect as usual. Whereas as soon as the administration of the Ten was abolished and they began to fight as free men, they recovered the same old spirit, and, in consequence, their attacks produced the same happy results as they had always done.

Book One, Discourse 44. A Crowd(a) is useless without a Head; nor should it first use Threats and then appeal for the Requisite Authority

The plebs of Rome, owing to what had happened to Virginia, withdrew under arms to Mons Sacer.{28} The senate sent messengers to inquire by what authority they had deserted their officers and retired to the Mountains; and so great was the respect which the plebs had for the authority of the senate that, since they had none of their leaders with them, no one ventured to reply. Not, says Titus Livy, that they lacked material for a reply, but that they lacked the men to make it. This shows at once how useless a crowd is without a head.

Virginius recognized this confusion and by his instructions twenty military tribunes were elected that the plebs might have leaders who could discuss matters with the senate and come to some agreement. When they asked that Valerius and Horatius should be sent to them that they might explain what they wanted, they declined to go until the Ten had been deprived of their magistracy. When they arrived at the Mountain where the plebs were assembled, they were told that what the plebs wanted was the appointment of plebeian tribunes, the right of appeal from any magistrate to the people, and the handing over to them of all the Ten, whom they proposed to burn alive.

Valerius and Horatius approved their first demands, but deprecated the last as barbarous, remarking: ‘you condemn cruelty, yet lapse into cruelty’. They recommended them to drop the question of the Ten, and to look instead to the reestablishment of their own authority and power, for afterwards they would not lack the means of obtaining satisfaction.

This teaches us plainly how stupid and foolish it is, when asking for something, to announce ‘I propose to do such and such a wrong thing with it.’ For one should not declare one’s intentions, but should seek to get what one desires anyhow. There is, for instance, no need in asking someone for a weapon to say ‘I propose to kill you with it’, since you can satisfy your appetite once you have the weapon in your hands.

Book One, Discourse 45. It is a Bad Precedent to break a New Law, especially if the Legislator himself does it; and daily to inflict Fresh Injuries on a City is most Harmful to him that governs it

When agreement had been reached and Rome had returned to its ancient form of government Virginius cited Appius to appear before the people to defend his case. He appeared in the company of many nobles. Virginius ordered him to be put in prison. Appius began to protest loudly, and appealed to the people. Virginius said that he was not worthy to have the right of appeal since he had abolished it, or to have as his defenders a people whom he had ill treated. Appius replied that the people ought not to violate the right of appeal which they had been so keen on instituting. He was none the less imprisoned, and killed himself before the trial came on. Appius by his wicked life no doubt merited the severest punishment. But it scarce accorded with civic custom to violate the law, especially a law that had just been made. For I do not think a worse example can be set in a republic than to make a law and not to observe it; and when it is not observed by the man who made it so much the worse.

After ’94 the government of Florence was reconstituted with the aid of Friar Girolamo Savonarola, whose writings attest the learning, prudence, and virtue of his mind. For the security of the citizens he had made, among other constitutions, a law which allowed an appeal to the people from a judgement which, in cases of treason, the Eight and the Signoria had passed. He had advocated this law for some time, and with the greatest difficulty got it accepted. Shortly after it had been sanctioned, it happened that five citizens were condemned to death by the Signoria for treason. When they wished to appeal they were not allowed to do so, and the law was not observed. This did more to lessen the reputation of the Friar than anything else that befell him. For, if the right to appeal was worth having, he ought to have seen that it was observed. If it was not worth having, he should not have forced it through. The event attracted more notice in that this Friar in not one of the many sermons which he preached after the law had been broken, ever condemned the breach or offered any excuse. For, since it suited his purpose, to condemn it he was unwilling, and to excuse it he was unable. Since this made it plain to all that at heart he was ambitious and a party-man, it ruined his reputation and brought on him much reproach.

It does considerable harm to a state to arouse every day fresh discontent in the minds of your citizens by inflicting fresh injuries on this or that person, as happened in Rome after the fall of the Decemviri. For all ten of them, and other citizens besides, were at various times accused and condemned, so that the whole nobility was in a state of extreme terror, since they thought there would be no end to such condemnations until the whole of the nobility was destroyed. This would have caused great inconveniences in the city if Marcus Duilius, a tribune, had not made provision against it by issuing an edict which made it unlawful for anyone to cite or accuse any Roman citizen for the space of a year; whereby the whole nobility was reassured.

This shows how harmful it is to a republic or to a prince to keep the minds of their subjects in suspense and fear by continually inflicting punishment and giving offence. Than this there is unquestionably no practice more pernicious. For when men begin to suspect that evil may befall them, they take any means to protect themselves and grow more bold and less restrained in attempting a revolution. It is necessary, therefore, either never to injure anyone, or to inflict the injuries at one go, and then to reassure men and give them ground to expect peace and security.

Book One, Discourse 46. Men pass from one Ambition to Another, and, having first striven against Ill-treatment, inflict it next upon Others

When the Roman people recovered its liberty and returned to its pristine state which was now the greater in that many new laws had been made whereby its power was strengthened, it looked as if Rome for the time being would be tranquil. Experience, however, showed that this was not to be, for daily fresh tumults and fresh discords arose. How this came about Titus Livy has cleverly explained. Hence it seems to me relevant to cite here his remarks on this point. He says that either the populace or the nobility always became arrogant when the other party was humbled; that when the plebs was quiet and kept its place, the young nobles began to treat it badly, and that the tribunes could do little to mend matters because violence was being used also against them. On the other hand, though to the rest of the nobility it seemed that their young men were going too far, it was none the less to their liking that, if excesses had to be committed, their own men should commit them rather than the plebs. Thus the desire for liberty caused each party to oppress the other in so far as it got the upper hand. And the sequence in which these events occur is such that men seek first to be free from apprehension, then make others apprehensive, and that the injuries of which they had ridded themselves, they proceeded to inflict on others. It was as if it were necessary either to treat others ill or to be ill- treated.

In this we see one of the ways in which republics come to be dissolved; and how men pass from one ambition to another; and how true is the saying which Sallust puts into the mouth of Caesar ‘that all bad examples arise from good beginnings’. The first thing which these citizens who live ambitiously in a republic seek, is, as I have said, not to be ill-treated, neither by private persons nor yet by the magistrates. To obtain this security they form friendships by ways seemingly honest, such as giving pecuniary assistance or protection against the powerful. And, since this appears to be a virtuous act, everyone is easily deceived and so does nothing about it, with the result that such men, persevering and meeting no obstacle, acquire a position of which private citizens are afraid and which the magistrates respect. When they have risen thus far and no obstacle has yet been placed in the way of their greatness, they arrive ultimately at a position which it is very dangerous to assail for the reasons I have already given, namely, the danger of removing an inconvenience from a state in which it has already grown to considerable dimensions. So that in the end it comes to this: either you must look for a way of removing the person concerned with imminent danger of ruin, or you must let him go on, with the prospect of manifest servitude unless death or some accident sets you free. For when a man has reached the stage at which both the citizens and the magistrates are afraid of offending him and his friends, it is not very difficult after that for them to do just what they please and to give offence in their own turn.

A republic, therefore, ought to have some institution whereby to prevent its citizens from doing wrong under pretence of doing right, and to see that their popularity is helpful, and not harmful to liberty – a point which we shall discuss further in its proper place.(29)

Book One, Discourse 47. Though Men make Mistakes about Things in General, they do not make Mistakes about Particulars

The Roman people, as I have already said, came to look on the consular office as a nuisance, and wished this office to be thrown open to plebeians, or, alternatively, that the authority of the consuls should be reduced. To prevent the authority of the consuls from being sullied by the adoption of either of these alternatives, the nobility suggested a middle course, and agreed to the appointment of four tribunes with consular power who might be either plebeians or nobles. With this the plebs was content, since it was tantamount to abolishing the consulate, and in the highest office of the state they had a share. An event now took place which is noteworthy. When it came to electing these tribunes, though they might have elected plebeians in all cases, all those the Roman people elected were nobles. On this Titus Livy remarks that ‘the result of these elections shows that the attitude adopted in the struggle for liberty and honour was different from that adopted when the struggle was over and gave place to unbiased judgement’.

If one asks how this could have come about, I believe it came about because men make quite a number of mistakes about things in general, but not so many about particulars. In general the Roman plebs thought that they deserved the consulate because they were the more numerous party in the city, because it was they who had been exposed to greater danger in the wars, because it was they who by brawn and muscle had kept Rome free and made it powerful. And since, as I have said, this desire appeared to them reasonable, they were determined to acquire this authority by some means or other. But when it came to deciding which particular members of their party to elect, they recognized their weakness and judged that no one of them was worthy of that of which all of them, taken together, had seemed to be worthy; so that being ashamed of their own people, they had recourse to those who were worthy of the office. It is no wonder Titus Livy is astonished at this decision, and remarks: ‘Where today will you find in anyone that modesty, fairness and highmindedness which the whole people then displayed?’

In confirmation of this may be adduced another notable instance which occurred in Capua after Hannibal had routed the Romans at Cannae. By this disaster the whole of Italy was stirred, and Capua was again on the brink of tumult owing to the hatred which existed between the populace and the senate. Pacuvius Calavius, who at the time was the city’s chief magistrate and realized the danger the city was in, considered how best he could use his position in order to reconcile the plebs with the nobility. This was the plan he adopted. He summoned the senate, told them of the hatred which the populace had for them, and that this meant they were in danger of being killed and of the city’s being handed over to Hannibal, so sorry was the plight the Romans were in. He then added that, if they would leave it to him to deal with the matter, he would do it in such a way that they should again be reunited, but he proposed to lock them up in the palace, and, in order to save them, to appeal to the power which the populace would thus have of chastizing them. The senators yielded to his advice. So when he had locked the senate up in the palace he called a meeting of the populace, and told them that the time had come when they could humble the pride of the nobility and obtain vengeance for the injuries done them, since the whole senate was locked up in his custody. He was sure, however, that they would not want their city to remain without a government, so that, if they proposed to kill the old senators, it would be necessary to appoint new ones. With this end in view he had put the names of all the senators in a bag, from which he would proceed to draw them in their presence. He would then put to death those whose names had been drawn, one after the other, as soon as they had found for each a successor. He then began by drawing out one name. On hearing the man’s name an uproar was raised, and they called him a proud and cruel and arrogant fellow. Pacuvius then called on them to appoint someone in his stead; whereupon the shouting subsided altogether, and after a pause one of the plebs was nominated. At his name some began to hiss, some to laugh, some to abuse him in one way, some in another. And so it went on, time upon time, till all who had been nominated had been judged to be unworthy of senatorial rank. Pacuvius then took occasion to remark: since you think this city cannot get on without a senate, but are not agreed as to who should replace the old senators, I think the best thing is for you to become reconciled; for the fear which has been hanging over the senators will have so humiliated them that you will find in them now that considerateness for which you have been looking elsewhere. To this they agreed, and unity in this institution was thus brought about, so that the mistake they had been making was discovered as soon as they were forced to get down to particulars. Other mistakes that are made by the populace in judging of things and of the properties of things in general also vanish when they come to study them in detail.

After 1494 when those who had been princes in Florence were expelled from that city, and there was no proper government, but rather a state in which anarchy and ambition were commingled and public business was going from bad to worse, many belonging to the popular party, seeing the city going to ruin and discerning no other cause for it, laid the blame on those powerful citizens who had fomented the disturbances that they might be able to set up the kind of state they wanted and take away liberty. They advocated these views in the colonnades and squares, spoke ill of many citizens, and threatened that if ever they got into the Signoria they would show them their mistake and would chastise them.

It has often happened that a man of this sort has risen to the highest office, and, when he has got there, has looked at things more closely and so has come to recognize the source of the disorders, the dangers which they entail, and the difficulty of putting matters right. Realizing that it is circumstances,a not men, that have brought the disorders about, he has then quickly changed both his mind and his line of conduct; for acquaintance with things in detail has removed the wrong impression that had been taken for granted when only general considerations were taken into account. Consequently those who have heard such a one speak when he was a private person, and, later on, have noticed how silent he remained when he held high office, have ascribed this not to his better acquaintance with affairs, but to his having been suborned and corrupted by the great. It is the sort of thing that happens to many and on many occasions. Hence the proverb which says: ‘He is of a different opinion in the market place from what he is in the palace.’

In view of all that has been said in this discourse, it should be clear, then, that it is possible to make the populace open its eyes as soon as a way can be found of making it see that it is a mistake to generalize, and that it ought to get down to particulars, as Pacuvius made it do in Capua, and the senate in Rome. We may infer, I think, too, that a wise man will not ignore public opinion in regard to particular matters, such as the distribution of offices and preferments; for here the populace, when left to itself, does not make mistakes, or, if sometimes it does, its mistakes are rare in comparison with those that would occur if the few had to make such a distribution. Nor will it be superfluous, I think, for me to point out in the next chapter the means taken by the senate to delude the populace when it was making its appointments.

Book One, Discourse 48. To prevent an Official Appointment being given to a Base and Wicked Fellow, either an Exceedingly Base and Wicked Man should be put forward as a Candidate or an Exceedingly Noble and Good Man

When the senate half expected that plebeians would be made tribunes with consular power, it adopted one of these two expedients. Either it put forward as candidates the most reputable men in Rome, or on the other hand, it took suitable means to suborn some rascally and insignificant plebeians and to cause them to mingle with plebeians of higher standing who in the ordinary course would stand as candidates, so that they should stand as candidates together. This second expedient made the plebs ashamed to give a man the office, while the first made them ashamed not to give it.

This all bears out the proposition laid down in the preceding discourse that, if the populace makes mistakes about generalities, it does not make mistakes about particulars.

Book One, Discourse 49. If those City-States which from the Outset have been free, as Rome was, find it difficult to formulate Laws whereby to maintain Liberty, those which have just been servile are faced with a Quasi-impossibility

How difficult it is in constituting a republic to foresee all the laws required for the maintenance of liberty, is clearly shown in the development of the Roman republic; in which, notwithstanding that many laws were laid down first by Romulus, then by Numa, Tullus Hostilius, and Servius, and finally by the ten citizens appointed for this purpose, in the managing of this city new needs continually cropped up and it was necessary to introduce new institutions. An instance of this occurred when they instituted censors. This was one of those provisions which helped to keep Rome free at a time when it was actually enjoying freedom. For in that the censors became the arbiters of Roman customs, they constituted a very powerful instrument which the Romans used in order to postpone the advent of corruption.30 At the outset, however, they made a serious mistake in the creating of this magistracy in that the censors were appointed for five years. But, before very long, this was corrected by the prudence of the dictator, Mamercus, who by a new law reduced the term of their office to eighteen months. This the censors, who were on the watch, took so ill that they deprived Mamercus of his senatorial rank, an action of which both the plebs and the patricians strongly disapproved. That history does not tell us whether Mamercus was able to do anything to defend himself, is due either to an omission on the part of historians, or to Rome’s institutions being in this respect defective; for it is not well that the procedure of a republic should be such that a citizen can be impugned without redress for promulgating a law in conformity with civic life and liberty.

But to return to the question at issue in this discourse. I say that in the creation of this new magistracy the point to notice is that, if in a state which had been free from the outset and had directed its own affairs, as Rome did, there was great difficulty in devising good laws whereby to maintain liberty, it is no wonder that a city which at the outset was in servitude to another, should find it not merely difficult, but impossible, ever to draw up a constitution that will enable it to enjoy tranquillity in the conduct of its affairs.

This is illustrated by what happened to the city of Florence, which, owing to its having been at the outset under the dominion of the Roman empire, and to its having always lived under foreign rule, remained for a time abject and without thought for its own condition. Later, however, when it got time to breathe, it began to make its own institutions; but found it impossible to make good ones for they were mixed up with the old ones, which were bad. It carried on thus for two hundred years, of which there are reliable records, without ever getting a form of government such as would entitle it rightly to be called a republic. The difficulty which it experienced, all states experience which have had a like beginning. And although time and again, ample authority was given by free and public suffrage to a few of its citizens to reform it, they never used it to draw up a constitution to the common advantage, but always in the interests of their own party; with the result that not order, but greater disorder, was brought about in that city.

Take, for instance, one particular point. I maintain that one of the things that has to be taken into account by one who is drawing up a constitution for a republic, is the question into the hands of what men should authority to inflict punishment on its citizens be placed. Rome’s institution here was a good one, for an appeal to the people was ordinarily allowed, and if an important case arose in which to defer action, pending an appeal, was dangerous, they had recourse to a dictator who dealt with it straightway; but to this remedy they never had recourse unless driven to it by necessity. Whereas Florence, and other cities which came into being in the same way, being servile, vested this authority in a foreigner, who fulfilled this function as his prince should direct. When, later on, they obtained their freedom, they continued to give this authority to a foreigner whom they called the ‘Captain’; which was a most pernicious practice, seeing how easily such an official could be corrupted by powerful citizens. But later still, owing to a change in the form of government a change took place in this institution and they appointed eight citizens to fulfil the function of the captain. This institution was bad and became worse, for reasons which have been given elsewhere, namely, that the few were always the servants of the few, and these the more powerful men.

Against this abuse the city of Venice has safeguarded itself by having ten citizens who are empowered to punish any citizen without appeal; and, lest the ten should not suffice for the punishing of the powerful, though they have authority to do this, they have set up the tribunal of Forty and, yet further, have decided that the Court of Rogation, which is the Greater Council, shall have power to punish them; so that there is no shortage of judges there to keep the powerful in check, given that there be no shortage of accusers.

Seeing, then, that in Rome, which had its own constitution drawn up by so many wise men, there were ever arising fresh causes which forced it to introduce new institutions in support of the liberties it enjoyed, it is no wonder that in other cities which were more lacking in order at the start, there should arise such difficulties that they can never be reconstituted aright.

Book One, Discourses 50–55: The Management of the Populace

Book One, Discourse 50. No One Department(a) and no One Official(b) in a State(c) should be able to hold up proceedings

When Titus Quintius Cincinnatus and Gaius Julius Mento were consuls in Rome, they fell out, and thus stopped all proceedings in that republic. When the senate, seeing this, advised the appointment of a dictator to do what the quarrel between the consuls prevented them from doing, the consuls, though they disagreed in everything else were in agreement about just one thing – not wanting to appoint a dictator. So the senate, having no other remedy, had recourse to the tribunes for help, who, with the authority of the senate behind them, forced the consuls to submit.

Here should be noted first the utility of the tribunate, for it was useful not only in bridling the ambition of the powerful which militated against the plebs, but also in bridling the ambition which they displayed one against the other. Secondly, it is to be noted that in a state there should never be an institution which allows the few to decide on any matter which in the ordinary course of things is essential to the maintenance of the commonwealth. For instance, if you empower a council to distribute preferments and emoluments, or a magistracy to administer some department, it is expedient either to make it necessary for them to take action or to arrange for someone else to have the power and duty of acting, should they be unwilling to act. Otherwise the institution will be defective and dangerous, as it would have been in Rome if it had not been possible to overcome the obstinacy of the consuls by the authority of the tribunes.

In the republic of Venice the Great Council distributes preferments and emoluments, and at times it has happened that at their general meeting, owing either to annoyance or to a misapprehension, they failed to appoint successors to some of the city magistrates and to those who administered their dominions elsewhere. This caused much disorder because all at once subject territories and the city itself lacked legally constituted judges. Nor was there any redress so long as this council at its general meeting remained dissatisfied and failed to realize its mistake. This inconvenience would have reduced that city to sore straits, if some prudent citizens had not met the case by passing on a suitable occasion a law prohibiting all magistrates from vacating any office to which they had been, or should be, appointed within and without the city, till they had been relieved and their successors appointed. This council was thus deprived of the privilege of being able to hold up public business to the danger of the republic.

Book One, Discourse 51. A Republic or a Prince should ostensibly do out of Generosity what Necessity constrains them to do

Prudent men always and in all their actions make a favour of doing things even though they would of necessity be constrained to do them anyhow. The Roman Senate made good use of prudence deciding to use public money to pay men on military service. It had been the custom for soldiers to pay their own expenses, but the senate saw that in such case they could not make war for long, and, in consequence, would neither be able to lay siege to towns, nor to lead their armies far afield. Since, therefore, they thought it necessary to be able to do both these things, they decided that the troops should be paid a stipend; but did it in such a way that they made a favour of doing what necessity had constrained them to do.

So acceptable was this gift to the plebs that Rome went mad with delight; for it seemed to them that they had received a great benefaction which they had never expected, and which they would never have asked for themselves. And, though the tribunes tried hard to remove this impression, pointing out that it would increase the burden on the plebs instead of lightening it since it would be necessary to levy taxes to be able to defray the cost; none the less they were quite unable to prevent the plebs welcoming the change. It was made the more welcome, too, by the way in which the taxes were distributed; for those imposed on the nobility were heavier and greater, and they had to be paid first.

Book One, Discourse 52. The Safer and Less Scandalous Way to repress the Arrogance of One who has risen to Power in a Republic is to forestall him in the Methods he uses to come by this Power

We have seen in the last chapter what credit the nobility, acquired with the plebs by their seeming bounty of granting the soldiers pay, and by the way in which taxes were levied. Had the nobility kept up this practice, they would have prevented any tumult in the city, would have deprived the tribunes of the credit they had with the plebs, and so would have deprived them of their authority. For certainly in a republic, and especially in a corrupt republic, there cannot be a better, less scandalous, or easier way of thwarting the ambition of any citizen than by forestalling him in the routes he traverses to get to the goal he proposes to reach.

If this method had been adopted by the enemies of Cosimo de’ Medici it would have been much better than driving him out of the city. For had his competitors among the citizens adopted his style and played up to the populace they would have taken out of his hands the weapons which availed him most, and there would have been no tumults and no violence. Piero Soderini had acquired great repute in the city of Florence simply by using this method, i.e. playing up to the public, who thus came to look upon him as a man who was devoted to the liberty of the city. It would certainly have been much easier, much more honest, less dangerous and less harmful to the republic, had those citizens who were envious of his greatness, forestalled the methods by which he made himself great, instead of opposing him in such a way that they ruined themselves, and, in doing so, brought ruin also on everybody else in the republic. For, if they had taken from his hands the weapons he used to make strong his position – which they could easily have done – they would have been able to oppose him on all councils and in all public debates without incurring suspicion and without regard for anybody. And, should anyone answer that, if the citizens who hated Piero made the mistake of not forestalling the methods whereby he had acquired repute with the people, Piero himself had made the same mistake in that he had not forestalled the methods used by his adversaries in order to frighten him, there was in Piero’s case an excuse. For it would have been difficult to do; and such methods were in his eyes dishonest because the methods they used in attacking him consisted in playing up to the Medici, with whose help they got the better of him and in the end ruined him. Piero, therefore, could not in decency play such a part, which would have meant destroying not only his good name, but the liberty of which he had been appointed the guardian. Nor could he have supported the Medici in secret and for the time being, since this would have been most dangerous in his case; for, should he have been discovered to be the friend of the Medici, he would at once have become suspect and odious to the populace; and this would have made it yet easier for his enemies to attack him than it had been before.

Men ought, therefore, in choosing between alternatives, to consider the snags and the dangers involved, and not to adopt that which may entail more danger than advantage, even though they have the backing of an assembly in what they have decided upon. Because, if they do otherwise, it may well happen in their case as it did in that of Tullius {Cicero}, who, in attempting to remove those who favoured Mark Antony, did but increase their numbers. For Mark Antony had been declared by the senate to be an enemy of the state, and had collected together a large army consisting for the most part of soldiers who had espoused Caesar’s cause. In order to deprive him of these soldiers, Tullius advised the senate to give preferment to Octavian, and to send him with the consuls, Hirtius and Pansa, against Mark Antony; alleging that, as soon as the soldiers who were following Mark Antony heard the name of Octavian, who was Caesar’s nephew and had adopted the name of Caesar, they would leave the former and join him; which would leave Mark Antony devoid of supporters, so that it would be easy to overcome him. The result was just the opposite; for Mark Antony won over Octavian, who left Tullius and the senate in the lurch, and joined him. This affair led to the utter destruction of the aristocratic{a} party.

This might easily have been foreseen. The senate ought not to have given credence to Tullius’s arguments, but should have borne ever in mind that name which had so gloriously wiped out its enemies and acquired the princedom of Rome. Nor should they have expected to be able to do anything consistent with the name of liberty with the help of his relatives and his supporters.

Book One, Discourse 53. The Populace, misled by the False Appearance of Advantage, often seeks its own Ruin, and is easily moved by Splendid Hopes and Rash Promises

When the city of Veii had been taken it occurred to the Roman populace that it would be of advantage to the city of Rome if half its inhabitants went to live in Veii; for it was argued that, since Veii was situated in a rich neighbourhood, was full of buildings and near to Rome, one half of Rome’s citizens might prosper there, and yet not be so near to Rome as to interfere with its civic proceedings. The project seemed to the senate and to wiser folk in Rome to be so futile and so likely to do harm that they openly declared that it would be better to suffer death than to agree to such a plan. The result was that, when the matter came up for discussion, the plebs became so incensed against the senate that there would have been an armed conflict and bloodshed, had not the senate been shielded by some citizens of mature age and high repute, and had not the plebs been deterred by the respect it had for them from proceeding further with its impertinence.

Two things here are noteworthy. First of all, the populace, misled by the false appearance of good, often seeks its own ruin, and, unless it be brought to realize what is bad and what is good for it by someone in whom it has confidence, brings on republics endless dangers and disasters. Again, when by ill chance the populace has no confidence in anyone at all, as sometimes happens owing to its having been deceived in the past either by events or by men, it spells ruin, and necessarily so. Apropos of which Dante said in the discourse he made “On Monarchy that the populace often used to cry Long live its death! and Death to its life!”

From this unreadiness to trust anybody it sometimes happens that a republic fails to reach the right decision, as has been said above of the Venetians, who, when attacked by numerous enemies, could not decide whether or not to save the situation by restoring what they had taken from others – for it was this that had led to the war and caused princes to form the League against them – until ruin came upon them.

Turning now to the question of what it is easy and what difficult to persuade a people, this distinction may be made. Either that of which you have to persuade it looks at first sight like a sure thing, or it looks like a lost cause, or, again, it may seem to it a bold thing or a cowardly thing to do. When proposals which have been laid before the populace look like sure things, even though concealed within them disaster lies hid, or when it looks like a bold thing, even though concealed within it lies the republic’s ruin, it will always be easy to persuade the masses to adopt such a proposal. And, in like manner, it will always be difficult to persuade them to adopt a course which seems to them cowardly or hopeless, even though safety and security lie hid beneath it.

What I have said is borne out by numerous instances, Roman and non- Roman, modern and ancient. For instance, it was in this way that a poor view came to be taken in Rome of Fabius Maximus, who failed to persuade the Roman people that the republic would do well to go slowly with the war against Hannibal and to act on the defensive instead of attacking him; for that people thought such a course cowardly and saw no advantage in it, nor had Fabius reasons enough to make them see his point. So blind indeed are peoples in matters concerning their own safety that, although the Roman people had made the mistake of authorizing Fabius’s master of horse to attack, contrary to Fabius’s wish, and although by the action, thus authorized, the Roman army would have been routed had not Fabius had the prudence to come to the rescue, yet so little did they profit by this experience that they afterwards made Varro consul, not on the score of merit, but because he had gone about everywhere proclaiming in the squares and public places that he would break Hannibal if they would but give him the command. The result was the battle and rout at Cannae, which almost ruined Rome.

Let me give yet another instance of such conduct in Rome. Hannibal had been in Italy for eight or ten years and had slaughtered Romans right and left throughout the whole of this province, when Marcus Centenius Penula, a low born fellow – though he had held some rank in the forces – came to the senate and offered, if they would authorize him to form an army of volunteers drawn from any place he pleased in Italy, to present them in a very short time with Hannibal either dead or alive. To the senate this rascal’s request seemed foolhardy; yet, in view of the fact that, if they refused it and the populace got to know of their decision, there would be disturbances and the odium would fall on those of senatorial rank, they granted it, preferring to expose to danger all who should follow him, rather than to arouse fresh resentment in the populace, for they knew how eagerly such a course would be welcomed and how difficult it would be to dissuade them. So the rascal went with a disorderly and undisciplined mob to look for Hannibal, and was defeated and killed, together with all his followers, at the first encounter.

In Greece, in the city of Athens, Nicias, a man both of weight and wisdom, could never persuade the people of that city of the folly of invading Sicily, with the result that against the advice of those who knew better, they took a decision which led to the total ruin of Athens.

When Scipio became consul and was keen on getting the province of Africa, promising that Carthage should be completely destroyed, and the senate would not agree to this because Fabius Maximus was against it, he threatened to appeal to the people, for he knew full well how pleasing such projects are to the populace.

One might cite relevant instances from our own city. For example, when Messer Ercole Bentivoglio, commander of the Florentine forces, together with Antonio Giacomini, after they had defeated Bartolommeo d’Alviano at San Vincenti, went to besiege Pisa, this attack was decided upon by the populace in view of Messer Ercole’s bold promises though many wise citizens were against it. Nor was there any way out since the project had been put forward by the general will, based as it was on the assurances given by the commander of the army.

I claim, then, that there is no easier way of bringing disaster on a republic in which the populace has authority, than to engage it in undertakings which appear bold, for, if the populace is of any account, it is bound to be taken up; nor will those who are of a different opinion be able to do anything to stop it. But if this brings ruin to a city it brings ruin still more frequently to the particular citizens put in charge of such an enterprise. For the populace having taken victory for granted, when defeat comes, do not blame it on fortune or on the helplessness of the person in command, but on his malevolence or his ignorance. Hence usually he gets either killed or imprisoned or exiled, as happened to numberless Carthaginian generals and to many Athenians. Nor does it help such a one to have won victories in the past, for the present disaster cancels them all out. This was what happened to our friend, Antonio Giacomini. For, when he failed to take Pisa, as the populace expected and as he had promised to do, he fell into such disgrace with the populace that, notwithstanding his countless services in the past, he owed his life rather to the compassion of those in power than to any cause which weighed in his favour with the populace.

Book One, Discourse 54. How Great an Influence a Grave Man may have in restraining an Excited Crowd

The second thing to be noted in regard to the incident related in the last chapter is that nothing is more suitable to restrain an excited crowd than respect for some man of gravity and standing who in person confronts them. Hence not without reason does Virgil say: “If then some grave and pious man appear, They hush their noise and lend a listening ear.”

This being so, a person who has command of an army or who finds himself in a city where a tumult has arisen should present himself before those involved with as much grace and dignity as he can muster, wearing the insignia of whatever rank he holds in order to impress them.

A few years ago Florence was divided into two factions, the Frateschi and the Arrabbiati, as they were called. When they came to blows the Frateschi were overpowered, among whom was Pagolantonio Soderini, a citizen of considerable repute in those days. During the disturbance the populace, having armed itself, went to his house to pillage it. In the house they found by chance Messer Francesco, his brother, then bishop of Volterra, and now a cardinal. On hearing the noise and seeing the crowd, he at once donned his most magnificent robes, put his episcopal rochet over them, confronted the armed crowd, and by his presence and his words held them up. This event was talked of and applauded for several days throughout the whole of the city. I conclude, therefore, that there is no surer or more necessary means of restraining an excited crowd than the presence of a man, worthy of its respect, who appears before it in person.

If then we turn to the aforesaid incident, one notices how obstinately the Roman plebs had taken up the suggestion that they should go to Veii because they thought it advantageous and did not perceive the harm which it involved; and how, when disturbances arose, trouble would have ensued if the senate had not, by means of grave and highly respected men, restrained their madness.

Book One, Discourse 55. That it is very easy to manage Things in a State in which the Masses are not Corrupt; and that, where Equality exists, it is impossible to set up a Principality, and, where it does not exist, impossible to set up a Republic

Though what is to be feared and what is to be hoped for in statesa that are corrupt has been sufficiently discussed elsewhere,31 it does not seem to me irrelevant to consider here a decision made by the senate in regard to the vow which Camillus had made to give a tenth part of the booty taken from the Veientes to Apollo. This booty had come into the hands of the Roman plebs; and, since there was no other way of obtaining an account of it, the senate made an edict requiring everyone to bring to the public treasury a tenth part of what he had seized. This decision was not carried into effect since the senate later adopted other ways and means of rendering to Apollo the satisfaction which was due from the plebs. It is apparent, none the less, from this decision what trust the senate had in the goodness of the plebs in that it felt sure that no one would fail to bring forth immediately all that the edict prescribed. It shows, too, that the plebs had no thought of acting fraudulently in regard to the edict by handing over less than was due. What they did, instead, was to get rid of the edict by showing plainly how indignant they were with it.

This example, and many others which have already been cited, show how great was the goodness and the respect for religion which then prevailed among the Roman people, and how much could be expected of them. For where such goodness prevails one cannot but anticipate good conduct. It cannot, on the other hand, be expected in these days in territories which are obviously corrupt, as is Italy above all other lands. France and Spain, too, share in this corruption; and if in these countries disorders are apparently not so great as those that occur daily in Italy, this is not so much due to the goodness of the people there – for in goodness they are noticeably lacking – as to their having a king who keeps them united, not merely by his personal virtues, but by constitutional methods, which in those kingdoms as yet are not corrupt.

In the province of Germany it is quite clear that goodness and respect for religion are still to be found in its peoples, with the result that many republics there enjoy freedom and observe their laws in such a way that neither outsiders nor their own inhabitants dare to usurp power there.{32}

And that it is true of these republics that in them there still prevails a good deal of the goodness of ancient times, I propose to make clear by giving an example similar to that related above of the Roman senate and people. When these republics have need to spend any sum of money on the public account, it is customary for their magistrates or councils, in whom is vested authority to deal with such matters, to impose on all the inhabitants of a town a tax of one or two per cent of the value of each one’s property. The decision having been made, each person presents himself to the tax- collectors in accordance with the constitutional practice of the town. He then takes an oath to pay the appropriate sum, and throws into a chest provided for the purpose the amount which he conscientiously thinks that he ought to pay; but of this payment there is no witness save the man who pays. This is an indication of how much goodness and how much respect for religion there still is in such men; for presumably each pays the correct sum, since, if he did not do so, the tax would not bring in the amount estimated on the basis of previous collections made in the customary way, and failure to realize it would reveal any fraud, and in that case some other method of collecting the tax would have been adopted.

This goodness is the more to be admired in these days in that it is so rare. Indeed, it seems to survive only in this province. This is due to two things. In the first place the towns have but little intercourse with their neighbours, who seldom go to visit them, or are visited by them, since they are content with the goods, live on the food, and are clothed with the wool which their own land provides. The occasion for intercourse, and with it the initial step on the road to corruption, is thus removed, since they have no chance of taking up the customs either of the French, the Spaniards or the Italians, nations which, taken together, are the source of world-wide corruption.

The second reason is that those states where political life survives uncorrupted, do not permit any of their citizens to live after the fashion of the gentry.a On the contrary, they maintain there perfect equality, and to lords and gentry residing in that province are extremely hostile; so that, should any perchance fall into their hands, they treat them as sources of corruption and causes of trouble, and kill them.{33}

To make it clear what is meant by the term ‘gentry’, I would point out that the term ‘gentry’ is used of those who live in idleness on the abundant revenue derived from their estates, without having anything to do either with their cultivation or with other forms of labour essential to life. Such men are a pest in any republic and in any province; but still more pernicious are those who, in addition to the aforesaid revenues, have castles under their command and subjects who are under their obedience. Of these two types of men there are plenty in the kingdom of Naples, the Papal States, the Romagna and Lombardy. It is owing to this that in these provinces there has never arisen any republic or any political life, for men born in such conditions are entirely inimical to any form of civic government. In provinces thus organized no attempt to set up a republic could possibly succeed. To reconstitute them, should anyone want to do so, the only way would be to set up a monarchy there. The reason for this is that, where the material is so corrupt, laws do not suffice to keep it in hand; it is necessary to have, besides laws, a superior force, such as appertains to a monarch, who has such absolute and overwhelming power that he can restrain excesses due to ambition and the corrupt practices of the powerful.

This argument is borne out by the case of Tuscany, in whose territory, small as it is, one finds that there have long been three republics, Florence, Siena and Lucca; and that the other cities of this province, though in a way servile, yet are of such a mind and have such a constitution that either they maintain their freedom, or would like to do so. All of which is due to there being in Tuscany no baronial castles, and either none or very few gentry, and to the presence there of so great an equality that a wise man, familiar with ancient forms of civic government, should easily be able to introduce there a civic constitution.a But, so great has been Tuscany’s misfortune that up to the present she has come across nobody with the requisite ability and knowledge.

From this discussion the following conclusion may be drawn: (i) that, where the gentry are numerous, no one who proposes to set up a republic can succeed unless he first gets rid of the lot; and (ii) that, where considerable equality prevails, no one who proposes to set up a kingdom or principality, will ever be able to do it unless from that equality he selects many of the more ambitious and restless minds and makes of them gentry in fact and not in name, by giving them castles and possessions and making of them a privileged class with respect both to property and subjects; so that around him will be those with whose support he may maintain himself in power, and whose ambitions, thanks to him, may be realized. As to the rest they will be compelled to bear a yoke which nothing but force will ever be able to make them endure. Between force and those to whom force is applied a balance will thus be set up, and the standing of every man, each in his own order, will be consolidated. But, since to convert a province, suited to monarchical rule, into a republic, and to convert a province, suited to a republican regime, into a kingdom, is a matter which only a man of outstanding brain-power and authority can handle, and such men are rare, there have been many who have attempted it but few who have had the ability to carry it through. For the magnitude of an undertaking of this kind is such that it breaks down at the very beginning, partly because men get terrified and partly because it hampers them.

With my thesis that where there are gentry it is impossible to set up a republic, the experience of the Venetian republic may, perhaps, appear to be incompatible, for in that republic no man may hold any office unless he be a ‘gentleman’. To which the answer is that this case in no way conflicts with my thesis, since ‘gentlemen’ in this republic are so in name rather than in point of fact; for they do not derive any considerable income from estates: their great wealth is based on merchandise and movable goods. Moreover, none of them have castles, nor have they any jurisdiction over men. The name ‘gentleman’ in their case is but a title, indicative of their standing. It is not based on any of the grounds which lead other cities to call people ‘gentlemen’. Just as in other republics different classes go by different names, so in Venice the population is divided into ‘gentlemen’ and ‘commoners’; and it has decided that of these the former alone shall hold, or be eligible for, office, from which the latter are wholly excluded. Why this does not cause disorder in that town has already been explained.

Let, then, a republic be constituted where there exists, or can be brought into being, notable equality; and a regime of the opposite type, i.e. a principality, where there is notable inequality. Otherwise what is done will lack proportion and will be of but short duration.{34}

Book One, Discourse 56. Before Great Misfortunes befall a City or a Province they are preceded by Portents or foretold by Men

How it comes about I know not, but it is clear both from ancient and modern cases that no serious misfortune ever befalls a city or a province that has not been predicted either by divination or revelation or by prodigies or by other heavenly signs. There is no need to go far afield to prove this. Everybody knows how, before king Charles VIII of France came to Italy, his coming was frequently foretold by Friar Girolamo Savonarola, and how, in addition to this, it was said that armed hosts had been heard and seen in the sky above Arezzo fighting one with the other. Everybody knows, too, how before the death of Lorenzo de’ Medici the elder, the upper part of the cathedral was struck by a thunderbolt which did much damage to that edifice. Everybody knows also how a short time before Piero Soderini, who had been made gonfalonier for life by the people of Florence, was banished and stripped of his rank, the palace was in like manner struck by lightning.

Plenty of further examples might be cited, but I pass them over lest I should bore you. I shall mention only what Titus Livy has to say about what happened before the Gauls came to Rome; namely, that a plebeian called Marcus Caedicius reported to the senate that, as he was going along the Via Nova, he heard in the middle of the night a voice, louder than a man’s voice, bidding him to go and inform the magistrates that the Gauls were coming to Rome.

The cause of such events should be discussed and explained, I think, by some one versed in things natural and supernatural, and this we are not. It may be, of course, as some philosophers would have it, that the atmosphere is full of spirits, endowed by nature with the virtue to foresee the future, who out of sympathy for men give them warning by means of such signs so that they may look to their defence. Anyhow, whatever be the explanation, there is evidence showing that such things happen, and that, after them, in all provinces there supervene extraordinary and novel events.

Book One, Discourse 57. The Plebs United is Strong, but in Itself it is Weak

In consequence of the ruin wrought in their country by the incursions of the Gauls there were many Romans who went to live in Veii, despite the decree and the orders of the senate. To remedy this disorder the senate by public edicts required everyone within a specified time and under specified penalties to return to Rome and to reside there. Those against whom these edicts were proclaimed, at first made fun of them, but, when it came to the point, all of them obeyed. Whereupon Titus Livy makes this remark: ‘As a crowd they were a fierce lot, but, as individuals each was so afraid that he obeyed.’

It would, indeed, scarce be possible to describe better the natural behaviour of a crowd in such circumstances than it is described in this passage. For, in criticizing the decisions of their ruler the masses are often bold; but when they see before their eyes the penalty attached, each mistrusts the other, and they hasten to obey. This shows beyond a doubt that scant attention should be paid to what the people says about their own good or evil dispositions, provided your regime be such that you can hold it if it be well disposed, and, if ill disposed, can see to it that it does you no harm. By ‘ill disposed’ I mean here a disposition that arises from some cause other than that of having lost its freedom, or having lost a prince who was beloved and is still alive; because ill dispositions which arise from such causes are more formidable than anything else whatsoever, and to hold them in check great precautions are required; whereas its other ill dispositions are easy to handle when there are no leaders to whom the populace can appeal. Because, though in one sense there is nothing more formidable than the masses{a} disorganized and without a head, in another sense there is nothing more weak. For it should be easy to restore order, even though they have arms in their hands, provided you have some stronghold in which to seek refuge from their first onslaught, since, when their ardour cools off a little, and each sees the other turning back to go home, they begin to lose confidence and to look to their own safety either by taking fight or by coming to terms.

If, then, an excited crowd wants to avoid these dangers, it should at once make one of its members a leader so that he may correct this defect, keep the populace united, and look to its defence; as did the Roman plebs, when, after the death of Virginia they quitted Rome and for safety’s sake appointed twenty of their members as tribunes. If this be not done, what Titus Livy says in the passage quoted above, always comes about, i.e., when together all are strong, but when each begins to consider the danger he is in, they become cowardly and weak.

Book One, Discourse 58. The Masses{a} are more Knowing and more Constant than is a Prince

Nothing is more futile and more inconstant than are the masses. So says our author, Titus Livy, and so say all other historians. For in the records of the actions men have performed one often finds the masses condemning someone to death, and then lamenting him and ardently wishing he were alive. The Roman people did this in Manlius Capitolinus’s case: first they condemned him to death, then urgently wished him back. Of this our author says that ‘soon after he had ceased to be a danger, the desire for him took hold of the people’. And again, when describing the events which happened in Syracuse after the death of Hieronymus, the nephew of Hiero, he says: ‘It is of the nature of the masses either servilely to obey or arrogantly to domineer.’

I know not whether the view I am about to adopt will prove so hard to uphold and so full of difficulties that I shall have either shamefully to abandon it or laboriously to maintain it; for I propose to defend a position which all writers attack, as I have said. But, however that may be, I think, and always shall think there can be no harm in defending an opinion by arguments so long as one has no intention of appealing either to authority or force.

I claim, then, that for the failing for which writers blame the masses, any body of men one cares to select may be blamed, and especially princes; for anyone who does not regulate his conduct by laws will make the same mistakes as the masses are guilty of. This is easily seen, for there are and have been any number of princes, but of good and wise ones there have been but few. I am speaking of princes who have succeeded in breaking the bonds which might have held them in check; among which I do not include those kings who were born in Egypt when that most ancient of ancient realms was governed in accordance with the law, nor those born in Sparta, nor those born in France in our own times, for the kingdom of France is better regulated by laws than is any other of which at present we have knowledge. Kings who are born under such conditions are not to be classed among those whose nature we have to consider in each individual case to see whether it resembles that of the masses; for, should there be masses regulated by laws in the same way as they are, there will be found in them the same goodness as we find in kings, and it will be seen that they neither ‘arrogantly dominate nor servilely obey’. Such was the Roman populace which, so long as the republic remained uncorrupt, was never servilely obsequious, nor yet did it ever dominate with arrogance: on the contrary, it had its own institutions and magistrates and honourably kept its own place. But when it was necessary to take action against some powerful person, it did so, as is seen in the case of Manlius, of the Ten, and in the case of others who sought to oppress it. Also, when it had to obey dictators or consuls in the public interest, it did so. Nor is it any wonder that the Roman populace wanted Manlius Capitolinus back when he was dead, for what they wanted was his virtues, which had been such that his memory evoked everyone’s sympathy, and would have had power to produce the same effect in a prince, for all writers are of opinion that virtue is praised and admired even in one’s enemies. Again, had Manlius, in response to this desire, been raised from the dead, the Roman populace would have passed on him the same sentence as it did, have had him arrested and, shortly after, have condemned him to death: though, for that matter, one also finds that reputedly wise princes have put people to death and then wished them alive again; Alexander, for instance, in the case of Cleitus and other of his friends, and Herod in the case of Mariamne. But the truth is that what our historian says of the nature of the masses is not said of the masses when disciplined by laws, as were the Romans, but of undisciplined masses, like those of Syracuse, which made the same kind of mistakes as do men when infuriated and undisciplined, just as did Alexander the Great and Herod in the cases cited.{35}

The nature of the masses, then, is no more reprehensible than is the nature of princes, for all do wrong and to the same extent when there is nothing to prevent them doing wrong. Of this there are plenty of examples besides those given, both among the Roman emperors and among other tyrants and princes; and in them we find a degree of inconstancy and changeability in behaviour such as is never found in the masses.

I arrive, then, at a conclusion contrary to the common opinion which asserts that populaces, when in power, are variable, fickle and ungrateful; and affirm that in them these faults are in no wise different from those to be found in certain princes. Were the accusation made against both the masses and princes, it would be true; but, if princes be excepted, it is false. For when the populace is in power and is well-ordered, it will be stable, prudent and grateful, in much the same way, or in a better way, than is a prince, however wise he be thought. And, on the other hand, a prince who contemns the laws, will be more ungrateful, fickle and imprudent than is the populace. Nor is inconstancy of behaviour due to a difference in nature, for they are pretty much the same, or, if one be better than the other, it is the populace: it is due to the greater or less respect which they have for the laws under which both alike are living.

If we consider the Roman populace it will be found that for four hundred years they were enemies to the very name of king and lovers of glory and of the common good of their country. Of both characteristics the Roman populace affords numerous and striking examples. And, should anyone bring up against me the ingratitude the populace displayed towards Scipio, my answer is that I have already discussed this question at length and have there shown the ingratitude of the populace to be less than that of princes. While in the matter of prudence and stability I claim that the populace is more prudent, more stable, and of sounder judgement than the prince. Not without good reason is the voice of the populace likened to that of God; for public opinion is remarkably accurate in its prognostications, so much so that it seems as if the populace by some hidden power discerned the evil and the good that was to befall it. With regard to its judgement, when two speakers of equal skill are heard advocating different alternatives, very rarely does one find the populace failing to adopt the better view or incapable of appreciating the truth of what it hears. While, if in bold actions and such as appear advantageous it errs, as I have said above, so does a prince often err where his passions are involved, and these are much stronger than those of the populace.

It is found, too, that in the election of magistrates the populace makes a far better choice than does the prince; nor can the populace ever be persuaded that it is good to appoint to such an office a man of infamous life or corrupt habits, whereas a prince may easily and in a vast variety of ways be persuaded to do this. Again, one finds that when the populace begins to have a horror of something it remains of the same mind for many centuries; a thing that is never observed in the case of a prince. For both these characteristics I shall content myself with the evidence afforded by the Roman populace, which in the course of so many hundreds of years and so many elections of consuls and tribunes did not make four elections of which it had to repent. So much, too, as I have said, was the title of king hated that no service rendered by one of its citizens who ambitioned it, could render him immune from the penalties prescribed. Besides this, one finds that cities in which the populace is the prince, in a very short time extend vastly their dominions much more than do those which have always been under a prince; as Rome did after the expulsion of the kings, and Athens after it was free of Pisistratus.

This can only be due to one thing: government by the populace is better than government by princes. Nor do I care whether to this opinion of mine all that our historian has said in the aforesaid passage or what others have said, be objected; because if account be taken of all the disorders due to populaces and of all those due to princes, and of all the glories won by populaces and all those won by princes, it will be found that alike in goodness and in glory the populace is far superior. And if princes are superior to populaces in drawing up laws, codes of civic life, statutes and new institutions, the populace is so superior in sustaining what has been instituted, that it indubitably adds to the glory of those who have instituted them.

In short, to bring this topic to a conclusion, I say that, just as princely forms of government have endured for a very long time, so, too, have republican forms of government; and that in both cases it has been essential for them to be regulated by laws. For a prince who does what he likes is a lunatic, and a populace which does what it likes is unwise. If, therefore, it be a question of a prince subservient to the laws and of a populace chained up by laws, more virtue will be found in the populace than in the prince; and if it be a question of either of them loosed from control by the law, there will be found fewer errors in the populace than in the prince, and these of less moment and much easier to put right. For a licentious and turbulent populace, when a good man can obtain a hearing, can easily be brought to behave itself; but there is no one to talk to a bad prince, nor is there any remedy except the sword. From which an inference may be drawn in regard to the importance of their respective maladies; for, if to cure the malady of the populace a word suffices and the sword is needed to cure that of a prince, no one will fail to see that the greater the cure, the greater the fault.

When the populace has thrown off all restraint, it is not the mad things it does that are terrifying, nor is it of present evils that one is afraid, but of what may come of them, for amidst such confusion there may come to be a tyrant. In the case of bad princes it is just the opposite: it is present evils that are terrifying, but for the future there is hope, since men are convinced that the evil ways of a bad prince may make for freedom in the end. Thus one sees the difference between the two cases amounts to the same thing as the difference between what is and what must come to be. The brutalities of the masses are directed against those whom they suspect of conspiring against the common good; the brutalities of a prince against those whom he suspects of conspiring against his own good.36 The reason why people are prejudiced against the populace is because of the populace anyone may speak ill without fear and openly, even when the populace is ruling. But of princes people speak with the utmost trepidation and the utmost reserve.

Nor does it seem to me foreign to my purpose, since I find the topic attractive, to discuss in the next chapter on which more reliance can be placed, on confederations made by a republic or on confederations formed by a prince.

Book One, Discourse 59. What Confederations or Leagues can be trusted most; those made with a Republic or those made with a Prince

Since it happens every day that a prince forms a league or an alliance with another prince, or a republic with some other republic; and in like manner confederations and agreements are made between a republic and a prince: I should, I think, inquire which contracts are the more stable and on which ought more store to be set, on those made by a republic or on those made by a prince. All things considered, I believe that in many cases they are alike, but that in some there is a difference. Furthermore, I believe that forced agreements will be kept neither by a prince nor by a republic. I believe that when they come to be afraid for the safety of their estate, both the one and the other, rather than lose it, will break their agreement with you, and treat you with ingratitude.

Demetrius, who was called the conqueror of cities, had conferred endless benefits on the Athenians. But, when, later, he was beaten by his enemies and sought refuge in Athens, a friendly city which was under an obligation to him, it refused to admit him, a thing that caused him more pain than did the loss of his people and the loss of his army.

After Pompey was beaten by Caesar in Thessaly, he sought refuge with Ptolemy in Egypt, whom, earlier on, he had reinstated in his kingdom; and was killed by him. These events were clearly due to the same causes; yet more consideration and less injustice was displayed by the republic than by the prince.

It will be found, then, that where there is fear there is in fact the same attitude towards contracts. And, should one find either a prince or a republic facing ruin in order to keep a contract, this, too, may be due to like causes. It may well happen, for instance, in the case of a prince that he is the ally of some powerful prince who has no opportunity of defending him at the time, but by whom he may hope to be restored to his principality in due course; or, again, having acted as one of his partisans, he may think it impossible to find one of the prince’s enemies with whom he can make an agreement or come to terms.

This was the lot of all those princes of the kingdom of Naples who espoused the cause of the French. It was also, in the case of republics, the lot of Saguntum in Spain which saw itself ruined because it had espoused the cause of Rome; and of Florence owing to her having in 1512 remained loyal to the cause of the French.

If all things be taken into account, however, I am of opinion that in cases in which there is imminent danger, republics will be found to be more reliable than princes. For though republics may have the same intention and the same desire as a prince, they are slower to act and take more time than a prince in arriving at a decision. Consequently they take more time over the breaking of a treaty than does a prince. Confederations are dissolved for the sake of some advantage, and in this republics abide by their agreements far better than do princes. Instances might be cited of treaties broken by princes for a very small advantage, and of treaties which have not been broken by a republic for a very great advantage.

This happened in regard to a proposal which Themistocles laid before the Athenians, to whom he announced in a speech that he had a piece of advice to give them which would be of great advantage to their country, but that he dare not mention it in public, for, if he did, it might spoil their chance of acting on it. Hence the Athenians deputed Aristides to hear what he had to say, and to decide what to do about it according to what he thought of the proposal. Themistocles then pointed out that the warships of all Greece, with respect to which they had treaty obligations, lay in a place where they could easily get hold of and destroy them, which would make the Athenians masters of that country. When Aristides reported to the people that Themistocles’ plan was highly advantageous, but extremely dishonest, the people on this account would have nothing at all to do with it.

Philip of Macedon would not have acted thus.37 Nor would other princes who in their enterprises and conquests have gained more by breaking their word than by any other device. I say nothing of pacts which are allowed to lapse through non-observance, since this is the ordinary thing. I am speaking of those which are broken for some reason outside the ordinary; and with respect to these am of opinion, in view of what I have said above, that the populace is guilty of fewer faults than is the prince, and that, in consequence, it is more to be trusted than is a prince.

Book One, Discourse 60. That the Consulate and all Other Offices in Rome were conferred without Respect to Age

It is attested by historical records that after the consulate had been thrown open to the plebs the Roman republic granted it to its citizens without respect either to age or to birth. In Rome indeed no attention had ever been paid to age: what it had always looked for was virtue, whether in the young or in the old. Valerius Corvinus, who was made consul in his twenty-third year, bears witness to this, for he said in a speech to his troops, that the consulate was ‘the reward of virtue, not of birth’.

Whether this practice is to be commended or not is open to no small question. It was necessity that constrained the Romans to disregard birth; and the necessity Rome experienced should be operative in every state that would meet with the same success that Rome had, as has been remarked on other occasions. For one cannot put men to inconvenience without rewarding them, nor can they be deprived of the hope of obtaining the reward without danger. It soon became expedient, therefore, to give the plebs cause to hope for the consulate, a hope which it entertained for a while without having the consulate. This then failed to suffice, and it became expedient to give it effect. Should a state not avail itself of its plebs in any glorious undertaking, it can treat it as it likes, – a point we have made elsewhere. But if it wants to do what Rome did, it must make no such distinction.

This being granted, nothing can be adduced in favour of a distinction in regard to age. On the contrary, it is necessary to disregard it; for in appointing a young man to a post which demands the prudence of an older man, it will be found that, should the masses have to elect, they will give the post to one who has performed some noteworthy actions. And when a young man is of such virtue that some noteworthy deed of his has become a matter of public knowledge, it would be most harmful if the state could not then avail itself of him, but should have to wait till he had grown old and had lost that vigour of mind and that expeditiousness of which his country at the time could have made good use. Thus Rome made use of Valerius Corvinus, of Scipio, of Pompey and of many others who won triumphs as very young men.

Book Two: The Growth of Rome’s Empire

Book Two, Preface

Men always, but not always with good reason, praise bygone days and criticize the present, and so partial are they to the past that they not only admire past ages the knowledge of which has come down to them in written records, but also, when they grow old, what they remember having seen in their youth. And, when this view is wrong, as it usually is, there are, I am convinced, various causes to which the mistake may be due.

The first of them is, I think, this. The whole truth about olden times is not grasped, since what redounds to their discredit is often passed over in silence, whereas what is likely to make them appear glorious is pompously recounted in all its details. For so obsequious are most writers to the fortune of conquerors that, in order to make their victories seem glorious, they not only exaggerate their own valorous deeds, but also magnify the exploits of the enemy, so that anyone born afterwards either in the conquering or in the conquered province may find cause to marvel at such men and such times, and is bound, in short, to admire them and to feel affection for them.

Another reason is that, since it is either through fear or through envy that men come to hate things, in the case of the past the two most powerful incentives for hating it are lacking, since the past cannot hurt you nor give you cause for envy. Whereas it is otherwise with events in which you play a part and which you see with your own eyes, for of these you have an intimate knowledge, are in touch with every detail, and in them find, mingled with the good, also much which displeases you; so that you cannot help thinking them far inferior to the remote past, even though in fact the present may be much more deserving of praise and renown. I am not here referring to what pertains to the arts, for in themselves they have so much lustre that time can scarce take away or add much to the glory which they themselves deserve. I am speaking of things appertaining to human life and human customs, the evidence for whose merit is not so clear to one’s eyes.

My answer is, then, that it is true there exists this habit of praising the past and criticizing the present, and not always true that to do so is a mistake, for it must be admitted that sometimes such a judgement is valid because, since human affairs are ever in a state of flux, they move either upwards or downwards. Thus one sees a city or a province that has been endowed with a sound political constitution by some eminent man, thanks to its founder’s virtue for a time go on steadily improving. Anyone born in such a state at such a time, is wrong if he gives more praise to the past than to the present, and his mistake will be due to the causes we have mentioned above. But those who are born in this city or province later on, when there has come a time in which it is on the decline and is deteriorating, will not then be in error.

When I reflect that it is in this way that events pursue their course it seems to me that the world has always been in the same condition, and that in it there has been just as much good as there is evil, but that this evil and this good has varied from province to province. This may be seen from the knowledge we have of ancient kingdoms, in which the balance of good and evil changed from one to the other owing to changes in their customs, whereas the world as a whole remained the same. The only difference was that the world’s virtue first found a home in Assyria, then flourished in Media and later in Persia, and at length arrived in Italy and Rome. And, if since the Roman empire there has been no other which has lasted, and in which the world’s virtue has been centred, one none the less finds it distributed among many nations where men lead virtuous lives. There was, for instance, the kingdom of the Franks; the kingdom of the Turks, {i.e.} that of the Sultan; and today all the peoples of Germany. Earlier still there were the Saracens, who performed such great exploits and occupied so much of the world, since they broke up the Roman empire in the East. Hence, after ruin had overtaken the Romans, there continued to exist in all these provinces and in all these separate units, and still exists in some of them, that virtue which is desired and quite rightly praised. If, then, anyone born there praises the past over and above the present, he may well be mistaken; but anyone born in Italy who has not become at heart an ultramontane, or anyone born in Greece who has not become at heart a Turk, has good reason to criticize his own times and to praise others, since in the latter there are plenty of things to evoke his admiration, whereas in the former he comes across nothing but extreme misery, infamy and contempt, for there is no observance either of religion or of the laws, or of military traditions, but all is besmirched with filth of every kind. And so much the more are these vices detestable when they are more prevalent among those who sit on the judgement seat, prescribe rules for others, and expect from them adoration.

But to return to our main point, I maintain that if man’s judgement is biased when he tries to decide which is the better, the present age, or some past age of which he cannot have so perfect a knowledge as he has of his own times precisely because it is long since past, this ought not to bias the judgement of old men when they compare the days of their youth with those of their old age, for of both they have had the same knowledge and experience. Nor would it in point of fact, if during the various phases of their lives men judged always in the same way and had the same appetites. But, as men’s appetites change, even though their circumstances remain the same, it is impossible that things should look the same to them seeing that they have other appetites, other interests, other standpoints, from what they had in their youth. For, since, when men grow old, they lack energy but increase in judgement and prudence, it is inevitable that what in their youth appeared to be tolerable and good, in their old age should become intolerable and bad; so that, instead of blaming the times, they should lay the blame on their own judgement.

Furthermore, human appetites are insatiable, for by nature we are so constituted that there is nothing we cannot long for, but by fortune we are such that of these things we can attain but few. The result is that the human mind is perpetually discontented, and of its possessions is apt to grow weary. This makes it find fault with the present, praise the past, and long for the future; though for its doing so no rational cause can be assigned. Hence I am not sure but that I deserve to be reckoned among those who thus deceive themselves if in these my discourses I have praised too much the days of the ancient Romans and have found fault with our own. Indeed, if the virtue which then prevailed and the vices which are prevalent today were not as clear as the sun, I should be more reserved in my statements lest I should fall into the very fault for which I am blaming others. But as the facts are there for any one to see, I shall make so bold as to declare plainly what I think of those days and of our own, so that the minds of young men who read what I have written may turn from the one and prepare to imitate the other whenever fortune provides them with occasion for so doing. For it is the duty of a good man to point out to others what is well done, even though the malignity of the times or of fortune has not permitted you to do it for yourself, to the end that, of the many who have the capacity, some one, more beloved of heaven, may be able to do it.

Having, therefore, in the discourses of the last book spoken of the decisions the Romans came to in regard to the internal affairs of the city, in this we shall speak of the measures the Roman people took to increase their empire.

Book Two, Discourses 1–5: Methods of Expansion

Book Two, Discourse 1. Whether Virtue or Fortune was the Principal Cause of the Empire which Rome acquired

Many are of opinion, and among them Plutarch, a writer of great weight, that the Roman people was indebted for the empire it acquired rather to fortune than to virtue. Among other reasons he adduces he says that the Roman people by their own confession admit this since they ascribed all their victories to fortune, and erected more temples to Fortune than to any other god. It would seem that with this view Livy also agrees, for rarely does he put into the mouth of any Roman a speech in which he tells of virtue without conjoining fortune with it.

With this view I cannot by any means agree, nor do I think it can be upheld. For if there is nowhere to be found a republic so successful as was Rome, this is because there is nowhere to be found a republic so constituted as to be able to make the conquests Rome made. For it was the virtue of her armies that caused Rome to acquire an empire, and it was her constitutional procedure and the peculiar customs which she owed to her first legislator that enabled her to maintain what she had acquired, as will be explained at length in many of the discourses which follow.

The aforesaid writers claim that Rome’s never having been engaged in two very big wars at one and the same time was due to the fortune, not to the virtue, of the Roman people; for there was no war with the Latins until Rome had so thoroughly beaten the Samnites that she had to go to war in their defence. Nor did the Romans fight the Tuscans until the Latins had been subjugated and the Samnites were almost entirely exhausted by frequent defeats; yet had two of these powers, while yet intact and vigorous, united together, it is easy to conjecture, nor can one doubt, that it would have meant ruin for the Roman republic. Anyhow, however it came about, it is a fact that the Romans never had two very big wars going on at the same time; on the contrary, one finds that either when one began the other faded out, or that when one faded out the other began. This can easily be seen from the order in which their wars took place. For, setting aside those waged before Rome was taken by the Gauls, we see that, while they were fighting with the Aequi and the Volsci, no other people attacked them so long as the Aequi and Volsci were strong. It was only after they were beaten that the war with the Samnites arose; and although before this war was over the Latin peoples rebelled against the Romans, yet, when this rebellion occurred, the Samnites were already in alliance with Rome and with their armies helped the Romans to subjugate Latin insolence. When they had been subjugated, the war with Samnium flared up again. And when the forces of the Samnites were beaten owing to the many routes inflicted on them, war with the Tuscans broke out; and, when this was settled, the Samnites started a fresh one, owing to the arrival of Pyrrhus in Italy. On Pyrrhus being repulsed and sent back to Greece, they started on their first war with the Carthaginians; and, scarce was this war over, when all the Gauls, both from this and from the other side of the Alps, conspired against the Romans, with the result that they were defeated with immense slaughter between Popolonia and Pisa, where the tower of St Vincent now stands. When this war ended, they had no war of any importance for the space of twenty years, for they fought with no one except the Ligurians and what remained of the Gauls in Lombardy. Matters stood thus until the second Punic war, which led to Italy’s being occupied for sixteen years. When this came to an end amid great glory, the Macedonian war broke out, and, when this was over, there came the war with Antiochus and with Asia. After which victories there remained in the whole world neither princes nor republics which, either alone or all together, could successfully oppose the forces of Rome.

If, before the final victory, we consider well the order in which these wars took place and the Roman method of procedure, it will be seen that in them, mingled with fortune, was virtue and prudence of a very high order. Hence, if one looks for the cause of this fortune, it should be easy to find. For it is quite certain that, when a prince and a people has acquired such repute that each of the neighbouring princes and peoples is afraid to attack it and fears it, no one will ever assault it unless driven thereunto by necessity; so that it will be open, so to speak, to that power to choose the neighbour on which it seems best to make war, and industriously to foster tranquillity among the rest. In this, owing in part to the respect they have for its power, and in part to their being deceived by the means it takes to lull them to sleep, they readily acquiesce. For other powers, which are farther away and have no intercourse with it, look on the affair as remote from their interests and as no concern of theirs; and in this error they remain until the conflagration is at their doors. Nor, when it arrives, have they any means of stopping it except by their own forces, which will then be inadequate, since the state in question has now become very powerful.

I do not propose to deal with the Samnites, who stood by, watching the Roman people overcome the Volsci and the Aequi; and lest I should be too prolix, only the Carthaginians, who were already a great power and in great esteem when the Romans were fighting the Samnites and the Tuscans, for they held the whole of Africa, held Sardinia and Sicily, and had dominion over part of Spain. This their power, conjoined with the fact that they were remote from the confines of the Roman people, accounts for their never having thought of attacking the Romans, or of helping the Samnites and Tuscans. On the contrary, they acted as men do when things seem to be moving rapidly in another’s favour, namely, came to terms with her, and sought her friendship. Nor was the mistake thus made at the outset realized until the Romans had conquered all the peoples that lay between them and the Carthaginians and they began to contend with each other for the dominion of Sicily and Spain. The same thing happened to the Gauls, to Philip, king of Macedon, and to Antiochus as happened to the Carthaginians. Whilst Rome was engaged with some other state, each of them thought the other state would beat Rome, and that they had time enough to protect themselves against her either by peaceful or by warlike methods. I am of opinion, therefore, that the fortune which Rome had in these matters, all rulers would have who should emulate Roman methods and should be imbued with the same virtue.

I should point out in this connection how the Romans behaved on entering foreign provinces, had I not spoken of it at length in my treatise on principalities,38 for I have there discussed the question fully. Here I shall make but this remark in passing. The Romans always took care to have in new provinces some friend to act as a ladder up which to climb or a door by which to enter, or as a means whereby to hold it. Thus we see that with the help of the Capuans they got into Samnium, of the Camertini into Tuscany, of the Mamertini into Sicily, of the Saguntines into Spain, of Masinissa into Africa, of the Aetolians into Greece, of Eumenes and other princes into Asia, of the Massilians and the Aedui into Gaul. Hence they never lacked supporters of this kind to facilitate their enterprise alike in acquiring the province and in holding it. Peoples who observe such customs will be found to have less need of fortune than those who do not observe them well.

That everyone may the better know how much more virtue helped the Romans to acquire their empire than did fortune, we shall in the next chapter discuss the character of the peoples with whom they had to fight, and show how obstinate they were in defending their liberty.

Book Two, Discourse 2. Concerning the Kind of People the Romans had to fight, and how obstinately they defended their Freedom

Nothing made it harder for the Romans to conquer the peoples of the central and outlying parts of Italy than the love which in those times many peoples had for liberty. So obstinately did they defend it that only by outstanding virtue could they ever have been subjugated. For numerous instances show to what dangers they exposed themselves in order to maintain or to recover it, and what vendettas they kept up against those who had taken it away. The study of history reveals, too, the harm that servitude has done to peoples and to cities. There is, indeed, in our own times only one country which can be said to have in it free cities, whereas in ancient times quite a number of genuinely free peoples were to be found in all countries. One sees how in the times of which we are speaking at present the peoples of Italy from the Apennines which now divide Tuscany from Lombardy, right down to its toe, were all of them free. The Tuscans, the Romans, the Samnites were, for instance, and so were many other peoples who dwelt in other parts of Italy. One never hears of there being any kings, apart from those who reigned in Rome, and Porsenna, the king of Tuscany, whose stock became extinct, though history does not tell us how. It is quite clear, however, that at the time when the Romans laid siege to Veii, Tuscany was free. Moreover, it enjoyed its freedom so much, and so hated the title of prince, that, when the people of Veii appointed a king in that city for the purpose of defence, and asked the Tuscans to help them against the Romans, the Tuscans after many consultations had been held, decided not to give help to the people of Veii so long as they lived under a king, since they held that they could not well defend a country whose people had already placed themselves in subjection to someone else.

It is easy to see how this affection of peoples for self-governmenta comes about, for experience shows that cities have never increased either in dominion or wealth, unless they have been independent. It is truly remarkable to observe the greatness which Athens attained in the space of a hundred years after it had been liberated from the tyranny of Pisistratus. But most marvellous of all is it to observe the greatness which Rome attained after freeing itself from its kings. The reason is easy to understand; for it is not the well-being of individuals that makes cities great, but the well-being of the community; and it is beyond question that it is only in republics that the common good is looked to properly in that all that promotes it is carried out; and, however much this or that private person may be the loser on this account, there are so many who benefit thereby that the common good can be realized in spite of those few who suffer in consequence.

The opposite happens where there is a prince; for what he does in his own interests usually harms the city, and what is done in the interests of the city harms him. Consequently, as soon as tyranny replaces self-governmenta the least of the evils which this tyranny brings about are that it ceases to make progress and to grow in power and wealth: more often than not, nay always, what happens is that it declines. And should fate decree the rise of an efficientb tyrant, so energetic and so proficient in warfarec that he enlarges his dominions, no advantage will accrue to the commonwealth, but only to himself, for he cannot bestow honours on the valiant and good citizens over whom he tyrannizes, since he does not want to have any cause to suspect them. Nor yet can he allow the cities he acquires to make their submission to, or to become the tributaries of, the city of which he is the tyrant, for to make it powerful is not to his interest. It is to his interest to keep the state divided so that each town and each district may recognize only him as its ruler. In this way he alone profits by his acquisitions, not his country. Should anyone desire to confirm this view by a host of further arguments, let him read Xenophon’s treatise On Tyrannicide.(39)

It is no wonder, then, that peoples of old detested tyrants and gave them no peace, or that they were so fond of liberty and held the word itself in such esteem, as happened when Hieronymus, the grandson of Hiero, the Syracusan, was killed in Syracuse, and the news of his death came to his army which was then not very far from Syracuse. At first there was a tumult, and men took up arms against those who had killed him, but when they perceived that in Syracuse the cry was for liberty, they were so delighted to hear the word, that all became quiet, and, setting aside their anger against the tyrannicides, they began to consider how self-government could be organized in that city.

Nor is it surprising that peoples are so extraordinarily revengeful towards those who have destroyed their liberty. Of this there are numerous examples, but I propose to give but one, which happened in Corcyra, a city of Greece, during the Peloponnesian war. Greece was then divided into two parties, of which one supported the Athenians, the other the Spartans. The result was that in many cities internal dissensions arose, some advocating an alliance with Sparta, others an alliance with Athens. This happened in Corcyra, where the nobles got the upper hand, and deprived the populace of its liberty. But with the help of the Athenians the populace regained their strength, laid hands on all the nobles, and shut them up in one prison which held them all. Then they took them, eight or ten at a time, on the plea of banishing them to various parts, and then to set an example put them to death with much cruelty. When those who were left heard of this, they considered whether there was any possible way in which they could escape this ignominious death. So, having armed themselves with anything at hand, they defended the entrance to the prison, and fought with those who tried to get in. The result was that, when rumours of this reached the populace, they came in a crowd, removed the upper storey and roof from the building, and smothered the inmates beneath the ruins. Many well-known instances of a like horrible nature happened later in this country. We thus see how true it is that a liberty which you have actually had taken away is avenged with much greater ferocity than is a liberty which someone has only tried to take away.

If one asks oneself how it comes about that peoples of old were more fond of liberty than they are today, I think the answer is that it is due to the same cause that makes men today less bold than they used to be; and this is due, I think, to the difference between our education and that of bygone times, which is based on the difference between our religion and the religion of those days. For our religion, having taught us the truth and the true way of life, leads us to ascribe less esteem to worldly honour. Hence the gentiles, who held it in high esteem and looked upon it as their highest good,a displayed in their actions more ferocity than we do. This is evidenced by many of their institutions. To begin with, compare the magnificence of their sacrifices with the humility that characterizes ours. The ceremonial in ours is delicate rather than imposing, and there is no display of ferocity or courage. Their ceremonies lacked neither pomp nor magnificence, but, conjoined with this, were sacrificial acts in which there was much shedding of blood and much ferocity; and in them great numbers of animals were killed. Such spectacles, because terrible, caused men to become like them. Besides, the old religion did not beatify men unless they were replete with worldly glory: army commanders, for instance, and rulersb of republics. Our religion has glorified humble and contemplative men, rather than men of action. It has assigned as man’s highest good humility, abnegation, and contempt for mundane things,c whereas the other identified it with magnanimity, bodily strength, and everything else that conduces to make men very bold. And, if our religion demands that in you there be strength, what it asks for is strength to suffer rather than strength to do bold things.{40}

This pattern of life, therefore, appears to have made the world weak, and to have handed it over as a prey to the wicked, who run it successfully and securely since they are well aware that the generality of men, with paradise for their goal, consider how best to bear, rather than how best to avenge, their injuries. But, though it looks as if the world were become effeminate and as if heaven were powerless, this undoubtedly is due rather to the pusillanimity of those who have interpreted our religion in terms of laissez faire,d not in terms of virtù. For, had they borne in mind that religion permits us to exalt and defend the fatherland, they would have seen that it also wishes us to love and honour it, and to train ourselves to be such that we may defend it.

This kind of education, then, and these grave misinterpretations account for the fact that we see in the world fewer republics than there used to be of old, and that, consequently, in peoples we do not find the same love of liberty as there then was. Yet I can well believe that it was rather the Roman empire, which, with its armed forces and its grandiose ideas, wiped out all republics and all their civic institutions, that was the cause of this. And though, later on, Rome’s empire disintegrated, its cities have never been able to pull themselves together nor to set up again a constitutional regime,a save in one or two parts of that empire.

Anyhow, however this may be, the Romans encountered in all parts of the world, however small, a combination of well-armed republics, extremely obstinate in the defence of their liberty; which shows that, if the virtue of the Roman people had not been of a rare and very high order, they would never have been able to overcome them. Of instances which bear this out, I shall cite but one case, that of the Samnites. It is a remarkable thing, as Livy admits, that they should have been so powerful and their arms so strong that they were able to withstand the Romans right up to the time of Papirius Cursor, the consul, son of the first Papirius; i.e. to withstand them for the space of forty-six years in spite of many disastrous defeats, the destruction of towns and the slaughter of the inhabitants of their country, a slaughter so great that this country, in which there were formerly seen so many cities and so many inhabitants, was now almost deserted, whereas at one time, it was so well ordered and so strong that it would have been insuperable if it had not been confronted with a virtue such as Rome’s.

It is easy, moreover, to see whence arose that order and how this disorder came about. For it is all due to the independence which then was and to the servitude which now is. Because, as has been said before, all towns and all countries that are in all respects free, profit by this enormously. For, wherever increasing populations are found, it is due to the freedom with which marriage is contracted and to its being more desired by men. And this comes about where every man is ready to have children, since he believes that he can rear them and feels sure that his patrimony will not be taken away, and since he knows that not only will they be born free, instead of into slavery, but that, if they have virtue, they will have a chance of becoming rulers. One observes, too, how riches multiply and abound there, alike those that come from agriculture and those that are produced by the trades. For everybody is eager to acquire such things and to obtain property, provided he be convinced that he will enjoy it when it has been acquired. It thus comes about that, in competition one with the other, men look both to their own advantage and to that of the public; so that in both respects wonderful progress is made. The contrary of this happens in countries which live in servitude; and the harder the servitude the more does the well- being to which they are accustomed, dwindle.

Of all forms of servitude, too, that is the hardest which subjects you to a republic. First because it is more lasting, and there is no hope of escape; secondly because the aim of a republic is to deprive all other corporations of their vitality and to weaken them, to the end that its own body corporate may increase. A prince who makes you his subject, does not do this unless he be a barbarian who devastates the country and destroys all that man has done for civilization, as oriental princes do. On the contrary, if his institutions be humane and he behave constitutionally, he will more often than not be equally fond of all the cities that are subject to him, and will leave them in possession of all their trades and all their ancient institutions. So that, if they are unable to increase, as free cities do, they will not be ruined like those that are enslaved. I refer here to the servitude that befalls cities which are subject to a foreigner, for of those that are subject to one of their own citizens I have already spoken.

He who reflects, therefore, on all that has been said, will not wonder at the power the Samnites had when free, or at the weakness that befell them later, when they became a subject state. This Titus Livy attests in several places, particularly in his account of the war with Hannibal, where he shows how the Samnites, when they had been maltreated by a legion which lay at Nola, sent messengers to Hannibal to ask him to come to their aid. In their address they told him that for a hundred years they had been fighting the Romans with their own troops and their own officers, and that often they had held up two consular armies and two consuls, but that now they had come to such a pass that they could scarce hold their own against the small Roman legion that was at Nola.

Book Two, Discourse 3. Rome became a Great City by ruining the Cities round about her, and by granting Foreigners Easy Access to her Honours

‘Rome meanwhile grows on the ruins of Alba.’ Those who plan to convert a city into a great empire should use every available device to fill it with inhabitants; for unless a city has a large male population it cannot do much. There are two ways of acquiring a large population, by friendliness and by force. It is done by friendliness when the road is kept open and safe for foreigners who propose to come and dwell there so that everybody is glad to do so. It is done by force, when neighbouring cities are destroyed and their inhabitants are sent to dwell in your city. This custom was so studiously observed in Rome that, in the time of its sixth king, there dwelt in Rome eighty thousand men bearing arms. For in this the Romans sought to do as a good farmer does, who, that a plant may grow big and produce and mature its fruit, cuts off the first branches that are put forth so that its roots may gather virtue and in due course may produce greener and more fruitful branches.

That this method of providing for expansion and a future empire was both necessary and good is shown by the example of Sparta and Athens, two republics which were very well armed and governed by the best laws, yet never attained the greatness of the Roman empire, though Rome appears to have been more tumultuous and not so well governed as they were. For this no reason can be assigned other than that already adduced. For Rome, by pursuing these two ways of enlarging the composition of her city, was able to put under arms two hundred and eighty thousand men, whereas Sparta and Athens could never muster twenty thousand each. This was not due to Rome’s being in a more advantageous position than was theirs, but simply to the difference in their modes of procedure. For Lycurgus, the founder of the Spartan republic, thought nothing more likely to frustrate his laws than the admixture of new inhabitants, and so did everything he could to prevent foreigners having any intercourse with the citizens. Not only was intermarriage forbidden, but also the admittance to civic rights and other forms of intercommunication which bring men together. In addition to which he instituted a coinage of leather, so that nobody might be tempted to come there with merchandise or any manufactured goods. Hence it was impossible for the inhabitants of that city ever to grow in number.

Since all our actions resemble those of nature, it is neither possible nor natural that a slender trunk should support a heavy branch. Hence a small republic cannot take possession of cities and kingdoms which are stronger and larger than itself: and, should it actually do so, it will happen as it does in the case of a tree which has a branch that is bigger than its trunk: it will support the branch with difficulty, and the least wind weakens it. This is just what happened to Sparta. It occupied all the cities of Greece. Then, when Thebes rebelled, all the other cities rebelled, and the trunk was left without branches. In Rome’s case this could not happen, for it had so large a trunk that it could easily support any branch. This mode of procedure, therefore, together with others of which we shall presently speak, made Rome great and exceedingly powerful, as Titus Livy pithily points out when he says: ‘Rome meanwhile grows on the ruins of Alba.’

Book Two, Discourse 4. Republics have adopted Three Methods of Expansion

The student of ancient histories will find that there are three ways in which republics have expanded. The first was that which the Tuscans of old adopted, namely, that of forming a league consisting of several republics in which no one of them had preference, authority or rank above the others; and in which, when other cities were acquired, they made them constituent members in the same way as the Swiss act in our times, and as in Greece the Achaeans and the Aetolians acted in olden times. Now, since the Romans made frequent war on the Tuscans, I shall pay special attention to them in order the better to show the nature of this first method.

Before the Romans established their imperium in Italy, the Tuscans were very powerful both by sea and by land. Though of their affairs history gives no exact account, there are one or two records and monuments which give some indication of their greatness. We know, for instance, that they sent to the mare superum, a colony which they called Adria, and that it was of such noble proportions that it gave its name to that sea which is still called the ‘Adriatic’ by the Latins. We likewise know that their arms held sway from the Tiber right up to the foot of the Alps, which encircle here the main portion of Italy, though they lost their imperium over that country which is now called Lombardy two hundred years before the Romans had acquired much power. For this district was occupied by the Gauls, who, driven by necessity or attracted by the sweetness of its fruit and especially of its wine, invaded Italy under Bellovesus, their leader, defeated and drove out the inhabitants, and settled in this region, where they built many towns. They called this district ‘Gaul’, since this was the name they then bore; and they held it till they were conquered by the Romans. The Tuscans, therefore, worked on the basis of equality, and, in expanding, followed the first of the methods mentioned above. There were twelve cities, and among others they included Chiusi, Veii, Arezzo, Fiesole, Volterra and so forth, each of which, as a member of the league, shared in the government of its empire. They never succeeded, however, in extending their gains beyond Italy; and of Italy, too, the greater part remained intact, for reasons which will presently be given.

The second method consists in forming alliances in which you reserve to yourself the headship, the seat in which the central authority resides, and the right of initiative. This was the method adopted by the Romans. The third method is to make other states subjects instead of allies, as the Spartans and the Athenians did. Of these three methods the last is quite useless, as is seen in the case of the two republics just mentioned. For they came to disaster for the simple reason that they had acquired a dominion which they could not hold. For to undertake the responsibility of governing cities by force, especially such as have been accustomed to self- government, is a difficult and tiresome business. And unless you have armed forces, and they are strong forces, you can neither impose obedience on, nor rule, them. For, if this be your plan, it is essential to have allies to assist you, and to increase the population of your own city. Wherefore, since these two cities did neither of these things, their mode of procedure was futile. But, since Rome, which exemplifies the second method, did both, she rose to exceedingly great power. And, since she was the only state that thus behaved, she was the only one that became so powerful. And, since she made many states her allies throughout the whole of Italy, which to a large extent lived under the same laws, and since, on the other hand, she reserved to herself, as has been said, the seat of empire and the right to issue orders, these allies without being aware of it, fell under her yoke and laboured and shed their blood on her behalf. For when they began to go forth with the armies of Italy and to transform kingdoms into provinces and to make subjects of those who did not mind being subjects since they were accustomed to live under kings, and who, since they had Roman governors and had been conquered by armies bearing the Roman insignia, recognized no superior other than Rome, the result was that Rome’s allies inside Italy found themselves before long encircled by Roman subjects and with an immense city, such as Rome had now become, towering above them; so that, when they realized the mistake they had been making, it was too late to put it right, so great was the authority Rome now exercised over outside provinces and so great the force which lay at her disposal within, since she had a city so enormous and so extremely well armed. And though her allies, to avenge their injuries, formed a league against her, they were soon defeated in war, with the result that their position became worse, for instead of being Rome’s allies, they now became Rome’s subjects. This mode of procedure, as has been said, has only been adopted by the Romans. Nor can a republic that wants to expand, adopt any other, for experience has shown that no other is so certain or so sure.

The alternative method of leagues, mentioned above and adopted by the Tuscans, the Achaeans, and the Aetolians, and today by the Swiss, is the next best to that of the Romans. For, though by this method it is impossible to expand indefinitely, it has two advantages. First, it does not readily involve you in war; secondly, you can easily hold as much as you take. The reason why such a republic cannot expand is that its members are distinct and each has its own capital; which makes it difficult for them to consult and to make decisions. It means also that they are less keen on acquiring dominion, for, since many communities share in that dominion, they do not appreciate further acquisitions in the same way as does a single republic which hopes to enjoy the whole. Furthermore, a league is governed by a council, which must needs be slower in arriving at any decision than are those who dwell within one and the same circle. Experience shows, too, that such a method of forming a confederation has a fixed limit, and that there is no case which indicates that this limit can be transcended. Twelve or fourteen communities join together, and beyond that they do not seek to go; for, having attained the stage at which it seems to them they can defend themselves against all comers, they do not try to extend their dominion, whether because necessity does not require them to have more power, or because they see no advantage in acquisitions for the reasons already given.

For in that case they would have to do one of two things: either to proceed to get allies, which, owing to their number, would entail confusion; or to make others their subjects, which they do not care to do since in it they see difficulty and in having them no great advantage. Hence, when they have reached the number which appears to promise them security, they devote themselves to two things, (i) They accept and undertake the protection of those who apply for it, and by this means get from all around money which can easily be distributed among them. (ii) They also fight for others and take pay from a prince here and a prince there who is prepared to spend money on his enterprises.

This, as we see, is what the Swiss are doing today. It is also, as we read, what was done by the states mentioned above. Titus Livy bears witness to this when he tells us that, at a conference between Philip, king of Macedonia, and Titus Quintius Flaminius, they were talking together amicably in presence of a praetor from the Aetolians, and that, when this praetor came to speak with Philip, Philip upbraided him for the avarice and double-dealing of his people, alleging that the Aetolians had not been ashamed to fight on one side and then to let their men take service with its enemy; so that the insignia of the Aetolians were often seen in two armies which were opposed. We find, then, that this method of forming leagues has always been the same, and has led to the same results. We see, too, that this method of acquiring subjects has always entailed weakness and has produced but small advantages; and that those who went beyond the appropriate limit, were speedily ruined. Moreover, if this method of acquiring subjects is useless to republics that are armed, it is utterly useless to those that are without arms; as it has proved to be in the case of the Italian republics in our time.

It thus becomes clear that the proper method to adopt is that which the Romans adopted; which is so much the more remarkable in that it was never adopted before, and has never been imitated by anyone since Rome. As to leagues, they are only found among the Swiss, and in the Swabian league which has copied it. And, as will be said at the close of this topic a great many institutions observed in Rome, pertaining both to internal and to foreign affairs, are not only not imitated at the present time, but are deemed to be of no account, since some are looked on as fables, others as impracticable, others as irrelevant and useless; with the result that, owing to this ignorance, we {in Italy} have become the prey of anybody who has wanted to overrun this land. Yet, if to imitate the Roman way seems to be difficult, that of the Tuscans of old should not appear so difficult, especially to the Tuscans of today. For, though they were unable, for the reasons assigned, to form an empire like that of Rome, they did succeed in acquiring in Italy such power as this method of proceeding allowed. This method, too, was for a long time secure, resulting in the greatest glories of empire and of arms in the highest degree as well as customs and religious observances which are worthy of the highest praise. It was by the Gauls that this power and glory was first reduced, and by the Romans that it was extinguished; and so completely was it extinguished that great as was the power of the Tuscans two thousand years ago, of it at present there scarce remains a trace. Which leads me to consider how things come to be thus lost in oblivion, a point that will be discussed in the next chapter.(41)

Book Two, Discourse 5. Changes of Religion and of Language, together with such Misfortunes as Floods or Pestilences, obliterate the Records of the Past

To those philosophers who want to make out that the world is eternal, I think the answer might be that, if it really were as old as all this, it would be reasonable to expect there would be records going back further than five thousand years, did we not see how the records of times gone by are obliterated by diverse causes, of which some are due to men and some to heaven. Those which are due to men are changes in religious institutions and in language. For, when a new religious institution comes into being, i.e. a new religion, its first care is, for the sake of its own reputation, to wipe out the old one; and, when the founders of a new religion happen to speak a different tongue, the old one is easily abolished. This becomes clear if we consider the measures which Christianity adopted vis-à-vis Paganism; how it abolished all pagan institutions, all pagan rites, and destroyed the records of the theology of the ancients. It is true that Christianity did not succeed in wiping out altogether the record of what outstanding men of the old religion had done; which was due to the retention of the Latin language, for this they had to retain so that they might use it in writing down their new laws. Had they been able to write them in a new tongue, there would, if we bear in mind the way they persecuted in other matters, have been no record of the past left at all.

Whoever reads of the measures taken by Saint Gregory and other heads of the Christian religion, will see what a fuss they made about getting rid of all records of the past, how they burnt the works of poets and historians, destroyed images and spoiled everything else that betokened in any way antiquity. So much so that, if to this persecution there had been conjoined a new language, in a short time one would have found all traces of the past wiped out. One can well believe, therefore, that what Christianity did with regard to Paganism,42 Paganism did to the religion that preceded it; and, as there have been two or three changes of religion in five or six thousand years, the record of what happened before that has been lost; or, if of it there remains a trace, it is regarded as a fable and no credence is given to it; as has happened with regard to the History of Diodorus Siculus, which covers a period of some forty or fifty thousand years, but is looked upon as untrustworthy, as I believe it to be.

The causes due to heaven are those which wipe out a whole generation and reduce the inhabitants in certain parts of the world to but a few. This is brought about by pestilence or by famine or by a flood and of these the most important is the last alike because it is more widespread and because those who survive are all of them rude mountain-dwellers who have no knowledge of antiquity and so cannot hand it down to posterity; and should there be among the survivors anyone who has such knowledge he will conceal it or distort it in his own fashion so as to establish his own reputation and that of his family, with the result that there will remain to his successors just so much as he has chosen to record and nothing more.

That these floods, pestilences and famines happen, I do not think anyone can doubt, for plenty of them are recorded everywhere in history, their effect in obliterating the past is plain to see, and it seems reasonable that it should be so. For, as in the case of simple bodies, when nature has accumulated too much superfluous material, it frequently acts in the same way and by means of a purge restores health to the body. Similarly in the case of that body which comprises a mixture of human races, when every province is replete with inhabitants who can neither obtain a livelihood nor move elsewhere since all other places are occupied and full up, and when the craftiness and malignity of man has gone as far as it can go, the world must needs be purged in one of these three ways, so that mankind, being reduced to comparatively few and humbled by adversity, may adopt a more appropriate form of life and grow better.

There was, then, as we have said before, a time when Tuscany was a powerful country, full of religion and of virtue, with its own customs and its own language, all of which we know was wiped out by the power of Rome, so that of it, as has been said, there remains nought but the remembrance of its name.

Book Two, Discourses 6–10: Colonization and War: Its Causes and Cost

Book Two, Discourse 6. How the Romans proceeded in the waging of War

Having discussed the procedure which the Romans adopted in expanding their dominions, I shall now discuss the procedure they adopted in conducting a war. As in all their actions it will be seen here how wise they were to depart from generally accepted methods in order to pave the way to greatness of the highest order. The aim of those who make war by choice or from ambition is to get something, and to keep what they acquire; and in this to proceed in such a way that the country, which is their fatherland, is thereby not impoverished but enriched. It is necessary, therefore, alike in acquiring and in keeping, to avoid expense, and, instead, to do everything so that the public may profit thereby.

In view of all this, it is expedient to keep to the Roman way of proceeding, which in the first place was, as the French would say, to make wars short and crushing. For, since the Romans put large armies in the field, the wars they waged with the Latins, the Samnites and the Tuscans were all over in a very short time. If one consults the records, indeed, it will be found that all their expeditions from the start up to the siege of Veii took but, in some cases six, in some ten, and in others twenty days. For their practice was, as soon as war had been declared, to lead forth their armies against the enemy and at once to engage him in battle. When they had won, the enemy, to prevent them devastating the surrounding country, came to terms; and the Romans confiscated some of his lands, which they handed over either for private use or to a colony which they placed on the enemy’s frontiers for the protection of Rome’s boundaries, with advantage both to the colonists who had the land and to the Roman public who had a garrison there at no expense to themselves. Nor, than this way of proceeding could any be safer, more forceful or more useful. For, so long as the enemy was not in the field, this garrison sufficed; while, should they go forth in strength to attack the colony, once again the Romans marched out in strength and gave them battle; and when the battle had been fought and won, and they had imposed yet heavier conditions, they went back home. They thus came step by step to acquire a reputation greater than the enemy’s and to increase their own strength at home.

They kept strictly to this method of making war till after the siege of Veii, when they made a change in their procedure. That they might carry on a longer war, they decided to pay their soldiers, which at first had been unnecessary since the wars were short, so they were not then paid. But, though the idea of the Romans in paying their troops was that it would enable them to make longer wars and to meet the case of more distant wars which would keep the troops longer in the field, yet they never departed from their basic principle of getting wars over quickly as far as place and time allowed. Nor did they ever depart from the custom of sending out colonies.

For in regard to the first method, namely, that of making wars short, apart from this having become their natural practice, the ambition of the consuls kept them to it; since they held office only for a year, of this year spent six months at home, and were keen on ending the war in order to have a triumph. They continued to plant colonies because of their usefulness and of the great opportunities they provided. They did, indeed, change somewhat the arrangement in regard to booty, and in this were not so generous as they had been at first. For (i) it did not seem to them necessary now that the troops were paid, and (ii), since the booty was now greater, they thought it a good plan that the public should benefit by it, so that they would not have to tax the city to pay for their enterprises. In a very short time this practice made the treasury very rich.

These two methods, then, of distributing the spoils and of sending out colonies, caused Rome to become enriched by her wars, whereas other princes and republics, being less wise, are impoverished by them. Indeed it went so far that in the end a consul does not seem to have been able to obtain a triumph unless he brought plenty of silver and gold and other booty of all sorts for the treasury’s benefit. Thus, the Romans by the aforesaid methods and by getting their wars over quickly – being able in the long run to tire out their enemies alike by defeating them, raiding them, and by means of treaties advantageous to themselves – became ever richer and more powerful.

Book Two, Discourse 7. How much Land the Romans gave to their Colonists

I find it difficult to discover the truth about how much land the Romans distributed when they started a colony; for it depended more or less, I think, on the places to which colonies were sent. It would seem, however, that in all cases and in all places no colonist got more than a small share. This was done, first that more men might be sent out as a garrison to defend some district; and secondly, because it was unreasonable that whereas at home people lived as poor men, they should want their colonists to have a superfluity. Titus Livy tells us how, when Veii was taken, they sent out a colony and to each colonist granted three jugera and seven unciae of land, which in our measure comes to… For this they had a further reason. It was not, they held, having plenty of land but its good cultivation that would tell. But all colonies, of course, necessarily had also public land on which anyone’s cattle might graze and where wood might be gathered for fires; without which no colony can support itself.

Book Two, Discourse 8. The Causes which lead Peoples to quit their own Country and to inundate the Lands of Others

Since we have just been discussing the procedure adopted by the Romans in their wars, and how the Tuscans were attacked by the Gauls, it will not be irrelevant here, I think, to point out that there are two ways in which wars come about. Sometimes they are due to the ambition of princes or of republics which are seeking to set up an empire; under which head fall the wars waged by Alexander the Great and those waged by the Romans, and those which are continually being waged between this power and that. Such wars are dangerous, but they do not entirely remove the inhabitants of the country invaded; for the victor is content provided its people became subject to his obedience, often lets them keep their own laws, and always leaves them their houses and their chattels. The other way in which war is brought about is when a whole people with all its families leaves a place, driven thence either by famine or by war, and sets out to look for a new home and a new country in which to live. In this case it does not, as in the previous case, merely govern there, but it takes possession of every single thing, and expels or kills the old inhabitants. This is war of the most cruel and terrifying kind. It is to such wars that Sallust refers when, towards the end of his Jugurtha, he says that, after Jugurtha’s defeat, the progress of the Gallic invasion of Italy began to be felt; and of this invasion says also that, whereas the Roman people fought with all other peoples merely for supremacy, with the Gauls the fight was always as to which of them should survive. For to a prince or to a republic that invades a foreign province it suffices if he gets rid of those who rule there, but to whole peoples it is essential to get rid of all the inhabitants since they want to live on that on which the others used to live.

The Romans sustained three of these extremely dangerous wars. During the first Rome was captured and occupied by those Gauls who, as we said, had taken Lombardy from the Tuscans and established themselves there. For this war Livy assigns two causes. First, as we said, they were attracted by the delicious Italian fruit and wines which in Gaul were notto be had. Secondly, the population of the kingdom of Gaul had multiplied to such an extent that they could no longer find enough food there, so the princes in those parts deemed it necessary that some of them should go in search of new lands, and, after discussing the matter, chose as the commanders of those who were to depart, Bellovesus and Sigovesus, two Gallic kings, of whom the first went to Italy, and the second crossed into Spain. The result of Bellovesus’ going to Italy was the occupation of Lombardy, and from this arose the first war which the Gauls made on Rome. The next was that which occurred after the first Punic war, when between Piombino and Pisa the Romans killed more than two hundred thousand Gauls. The third was that in which the Germans and the Cimbri invaded Italy, where, after defeating several Roman armies, they were beaten by Marius. The Romans, then, won these three highly hazardous wars, and to win them called for more than a modicum of virtue; for we see how, when, later on, the virtue of Rome declined and its armies lost their former virtue, their empire was destroyed by peoples of the same type, namely, by Goths, Vandals and such-like peoples, who occupied the whole of the Western empire.

Peoples such as these quit their own lands when constrained to do so by necessity, as had been said above; and the necessity is due either to famine or to a war or to hardships undergone in their own country; for in such a case they are constrained to go in search of new lands. And such peoples when they are very numerous and then make a violent incursion into the lands of others, kill the inhabitants, seize their goods, and establish a new kingdom under a new name. This was done by Moses and by the peoples who overran the Roman empire. For the new names now used in Italy and other provinces are due simply to their having been so called by their new conquerors. Thus, Lombardy used to be called Cisalpine Gaul; France used to be called Trans-Alpine Gaul, but got its present name from the Franks, who gave it this name when they occupied it. Slavonia used to be called Illyria; Hungary, Pannonia; England, Britannia; and so of many other provinces with changed names which it would be tedious to recount. So, too, Moses gave the name Judea to that part of Syria which he occupied.

Since I said above that such peoples are sometimes forced to go and look for new lands because they are driven from those they inhabit by war, I propose, as an instance of this, to cite the Moors, peoples that originally dwelt in Syria. When these peoples heard that the Hebrews were coming, they thought resistance impossible, so decided that it would be better to leave their country and save themselves rather than to lose themselves in an attempt to save their country. So with their families they deserted it and went to Africa, where they established themselves, after expelling the inhabitants whom they found in those parts. Thus, a people which could not defend its own country, succeeded in taking somebody else’s. Procopius, who writes of the war Belisarius waged with the Vandals, who occupied Africa, tells us he came across inscriptions on certain columns in places where the Moors used to live, which said: ‘We are the Moors, who fled before the face of Joshua, the robber, the son of Nun.’ This makes it clear why the Moors left Syria.

Peoples, therefore, who have been driven out by sheer necessity, are very formidable, and, unless confronted by good armies, can never be held back. But when those who are constrained to abandon their country are not numerous, they are not so dangerous as the peoples we have been discussing. For they have not the same force at their disposal, but must resort to artifice in order to get territory, and, having obtained it, must make alliances and form confederations in order to hold it; as we see that Aeneas, Dido, the Massilians, and such-like, did, all of whom maintained their footing in the place where they had settled by the consent of their neighbours.

The larger migrations, involving whole peoples, have come from Scythia, a country that is cold and poor. In it, when the population becomes large, the land is not fertile enough to sustain it, and they are forced to emigrate; for there are many causes to drive them out and none to keep them at home. And if for the last five hundred years there have been no inundations of these peoples, there are several causes that account for this. First, there was the great evacuation which occurred in that country during the decline of the Empire, when more than thirty peoples emigrated. Secondly, Germany and Hungary, from which emigrations of these peoples also took place, are now prosperous lands where people can live in comfort, so that there is no need to change their habitation. On the contrary, since these peoples are extremely warlike, they form a bastion which prevents the Scythians who live on their borders from attempting either to conquer them or to pass through them. There have also frequently been very great movements among the Tartars, which the Hungarians and the people of Poland have withstood; and it has often been their boast that, if it had not been for them, Italy and the Church would on many an occasion have felt the weight of Tartar armies. But of these peoples I think I have now said enough.

Book Two, Discourse 9. What Causes commonly give rise to Wars between Different Powers

The cause of the war between the Romans and the Samnites, with whom for a long time they had been in alliance, is one which arises commonly between powerful states. It consists in some incident which is brought about either by chance or by those who are desirous of provoking a war. That which gave rise to war between the Romans and the Samnites was due to chance. For, when the Samnites made war on the Sidicines and then on the Campanians, they had no intention of making war on Rome. But, when the Campanians were attacked and appealed to Rome, which neither the Romans nor the Samnites had expected, the Romans, to whose suzerainty the Campanians had submitted, had to defend them, and so to take on a war which it did not seem to them that they could with honour escape. For, though it did not appear reasonable that they should defend their allies, the Campanians, against their allies, the Samnites, yet, when the former had become their subjects and had accepted their suzerainty, it seemed to them shameful not to defend them; for they thought that, if they did not undertake to defend them, it would put an obstacle in the way of any others who contemplated submitting to their dominion. Since, therefore, Rome was aiming at empire and glory, not at tranquillity, they could not decline to take the matter up.

The same causes were operative at the beginning of the first Punic war, which was due to the Romans having undertaken the defence of the Messinians in Sicily, an undertaking which again was brought about by chance. This was not the case later in the second war which arose between them; for Hannibal, the Carthaginian commander, attacked the Saguntines, who were allies of the Romans, in Spain, not out of hostility to them, but to get the Roman armies to take action, so as to provide him with an opportunity of attacking them and of crossing into Italy.

This method of starting new wars has always been the practice with powerful states who have a certain respect both for treaties and for one another. For, if I want to make war on some prince and between us there is a treaty the articles of which have been observed for a considerable time, rather than attack him, I shall look for some justification and ground for attacking one of his allies, knowing full well that, if his ally be attacked, either he will resent it and I shall get what I want in that war will arise, or, if he takes no notice, he will disclose either his weakness or his unreliability in that he does not defend a dependent state. In either case he will lose his reputation and it will be easier for me to accomplish my designs.

With regard, then, to the provoking of a war, due note should be taken of what has just been said about the submission of the Campanians. It should be noted, too, that a city which does not suffice for its own defence, has a remedy, should it desire at all costs to defend itself against attack. The remedy consists in submitting voluntarily to the state whose protection you propose to invoke. Thus the Capuans submitted to the Romans, and the Florentines to king Robert of Naples, who, though not prepared to defend them on the basis of an alliance, when they became his subjects, defended them against all the forces which Castruccio da Lucca was employing against them.

Book Two, Discourse 10. Money is not the Sinews of War, as it is commonly supposed to be

Since it is open to anyone having the requisite authority to begin a war but not to end it, a ruler before committing himself to such an undertaking should calculate what forces he has at his disposal and act accordingly. Moreover, he should also take good care not to make any mistake about such forces, as he will do every time he bases his calculations on money or on the terrain or on the goodwill of men, but, on the other hand, lacks troops of his own. For though such things undoubtedly add to your strength, they certainly do not provide you with it; and, as such, are nought and of no avail without faithful troops. For, without these no amount of money will suffice you: the natural strength of the country will not help you; nor will the goodwill of men last, since they cannot remain faithful to you unless you are able to protect them. Every mountain, every lake, every inaccessible fastness, becomes but as a plain, when strong defenders are lacking. Money, too, not only affords you no protection, but makes you the sooner fall a prey. Nor can any opinion be more false than that which asserts that money is the sinews of war.

This view was advocated by Quintus Curtius in connection with the war which took place between Antipater, the Macedonian, and the king of Sparta; where he tells how, for want of money, the king of Sparta of necessity had to join battle, and was beaten; whereas, had he postponed the battle for a few days, he would have had news from Greece of the death of Alexander, and so would have remained the victor without putting up a fight. But, since he was without funds and feared lest for lack of them his army might desert, he was forced to try his luck in battle. On which ground Quintus Curtius maintains that money is the sinews of war.

The view adopted by Quintus Curtius is put forward daily, and is followed by rulers whose prudence is not up to the mark. Taking this as their basic principle, they think they can defend themselves if they have a well-filled treasury, and do not consider that, if treasures guaranteed victory, Darius would have conquered Alexander, the Greeks would have conquered the Romans, in our day Duke Charles would have conquered the Swiss; nor yet, but a few days ago, would the combined forces of the Pope and the Florentines have had any difficulty in overcoming Francesco Maria, the nephew of Julius II, in the war of Urbino. Yet all those mentioned were overcome by those who held that the sinews of war lay not in money, but in good soldiers.

Among the other things that Croesus, king of Lydia, showed to Solon, the Athenian, was a treasure too great to count. Solon was then asked what opinion he had formed of the king’s power, to which he replied that he did not think him more powerful on this account, for war is made with steel, not with gold, and if anyone came along who had more steel than he had, he could deprive him of his power.

Again, when, after the death of Alexander the Great, a host of Gauls crossed into Greece, and then to Asia, and sent ambassadors to arrange a treaty with the king of Macedonia, the king, in order to display his power and to frighten them, showed them a lot of gold and silver; whereupon the Gauls who up till then had been intent on peace, broke off negotiations, so eager were they to relieve him of that gold. So the king was despoiled on account of the very thing he had accumulated for his defence.

The Venetians, a few years ago, also had a well-filled treasury, yet lost all their dominions without being able to use their treasures to defend them.

I assert, then, that it is not gold, as is acclaimed by common opinion, that constitutes the sinews of war, but good soldiers; for gold does not find good soldiers, but good soldiers are quite capable of finding gold. If the Romans had chosen to wage war rather by means of money than by the sword, not all the treasure in the world would have sufficed in view of the great enterprises they undertook and the difficulties they had to encounter in them. But, since they made war with the sword, they did not suffer for want of gold, because those who were afraid of them brought it right into their camps. And if that Spartan king for lack of money had to try his luck in battle, what happened to him on the score of money has very often happened for other reasons; for it is obvious that, when an army is short of provisions and must needs either die of hunger or fight, it always chooses to fight, since this is the more honourable course, and one that gives fortune some chance to show you favour. Again, it often happens that when a general sees that the enemy’s army is about to be reinforced, he must either engage it and try his fortune in battle, or wait till the enemy’s force has increased, and then have to fight it anyhow to his own great disadvantage. One sees, too – as happened to Hasdrubal when he was attacked jointly by Claudius Nero and the other Roman consul in the March {of Ancona} – how a general who is obliged either to run away or to fight, always chooses to fight, since it seems to him that this course, even should the issue be extremely doubtful, gives him a chance to win, whereas the other would mean losing in any case. There are, then, many situations which compel a general to prefer the alternative of fighting even though he had no intention of so doing, of which lack of money may sometimes be one. But one ought not for this reason to infer that money is the sinews of war, any more than are other situations which place men in a like predicament.

I repeat, therefore: gold is not the sinews of war, but good soldiers are. Gold is necessary, but is of secondary importance, and good soldiers can get it for themselves; for it is as impossible for good soldiers to fail to find gold as it is for gold to find good soldiers. That in this we are speaking the truth history shows again and again, in spite of the fact that Pericles advised the Athenians to wage war with the whole of the Peloponnese on the ground that their industry and their pecuniary resources should enable them to win it. And, though during the war the Athenians sometimes prospered, in the end they lost, so that Sparta’s wisdom and good soldiery was worth more than Athens’ industry and money. On this point Titus Livy is a better witness than anybody else. I refer to the passage in which he discusses whether, if Alexander the Great had come to Italy, he would have beaten the Romans. In it he points out that three things are necessary for war; plenty of good soldiers, wise generals and good luck; and then, having inquired whether the Romans or Alexander was the better off in these things, he draws his conclusion without any mention of money. The Capuans, when they were asked by the Sidicines to take up arms for them against the Samnites, must have calculated their strength on a monetary basis, and not on the basis of troops, for, when they decided to help them, after being twice routed, they were forced to become Rome’s tributaries if they wished to survive.{43}

Book Two, Discourses 11–15: Diplomacy and War

Book Two, Discourse 11. It is not a Wise Course to make an Alliance with a Rulera whose Reputation is greater than his Strength

The mistake the Sidicines made in trusting to the Campanians for help, and the mistake the Campanians made in thinking they could defend them could not be shown more vividly than it is by Titus Livy when he writes: ‘The Campanians brought a name to the help of the Sidicines instead of forces to protect them.’ It should be noted here that leagues made with rulers who lack either the means to help because they are too far away, or the power to help because they are disorganized or for other reasons, bring rather repute than assistance to those who trust in them.

It happened thus in our day to the Florentines when in 1479 the Pope and the king of Naples attacked them. They were allies of the king of France, but from this alliance gained ‘rather a name than protection’. The same thing would happen to the ruler who should enter on some enterprise relying on the Emperor, Maximilian, for it would be one of those alliances that bring ‘rather a name than protection’, which is what Livy says the Capuans brought to the Sidicines. The Capuans, therefore, erred here in thinking their strength greater than it was.

So small is the prudence of men that they sometimes undertake to defend others when they neither know how, nor are able, to defend themselves. Thus, when the Roman army had taken the field against the Samnite army, the Tarentines sent ambassadors to the Roman consul to inform him that they wished there to be peace between these two peoples, and that they proposed to make war on whoever should disturb that peace. At this the consul laughed, and in the presence of the ambassadors had the trumpets sound for battle. He then told his army to go for the enemy, thereby showing, by actions, not by words, what answer he thought they deserved.

Having in this chapter discussed the means rulers take, to their own hurt, for the defence of others, in the next I propose to discuss the means they take to defend themselves.

Book Two, Discourse 12. Whether it is better, when threatened with Attack, to assume the Offensive or to await the Outbreak of War

I have sometimes heard men with considerable experience in matters connected with war, discussing whether, if of two rulers of approximately equal strength the more aggressive has declared war on the other, it is the better course for that other to await the enemy within his own boundaries or to assume the offensive and attack him in his own country; and for each course I have heard arguments adduced. Those who maintain that he should assume the offensive, cite the advice Croesus gave to Cyrus when he reached the borders of the Messagetans’ territory to make war on them, and Tomyris, their queen, sent him word that it was up to him to choose between two courses, either to enter her kingdom, where she was awaiting him, or to let her come and seek him out. When the matter came up for discussion Croesus, contrary to the views expressed by others, advised him to go and seek her out, on the ground that, if he defeated her when she was outside her own kingdom, he would not deprive her of it, for she would have time to re-form her forces; but that, if he defeated her on her own territory, he should be able to pursue her when she fled, and, since this would give her no chance to re-form, he would deprive her of her state.

They allege, too, the advice which Hannibal gave to Antiochus, when this monarch was contemplating a war with the Romans. The Romans, he argued, could only be beaten in Italy, for others might there be able to avail themselves of their arms, their riches and their allies; whereas anyone who fought with them outside Italy and left Italy unmolested, would leave them with that inexhaustible source whence to draw forces as need arose. He ended by saying that Antiochus had better first try to take Rome before attacking the empire, and Italy before attacking the other provinces.

They also point out that when Agathocles was unable to cope with war at home, he took the offensive against the Carthaginians who were making war on him, and forced them to sue for peace. They point out, too, that Scipio took the offensive in Africa in order to stop the war in Italy.

Those who take the opposite view say that if one wants an enemy to succeed ill one should get him away from his home. They cite the Athenians who kept the upper hand so long as they were waging war conveniently at home; but who, when they left it and took their armies to Sicily, lost their freedom. They also appeal to poetical fables which tell how Antaeus, king of Libya, when attacked by Hercules Ergidius, was insuperable as long as he awaited him within the confines of his own kingdom, but how, when induced by the craft of Hercules to leave it, he lost both his throne and his life. This gave rise to the fable depicting Antaeus on the ground drawing strength from his mother, the Earth, and Hercules, on seeing this, lifting him up and holding him away from the earth.

They also cite modern opinions. Everybody knows that Ferdinand, king of Naples, was held in his time to be a very wise prince, and that two years before his death it was rumoured that Charles VIII, king of France, intended to come and attack him; for which Ferdinand made due preparation, but then fell ill. When about to die he left to his son, Alfonso, among other memoranda, one telling him to await the enemy within his own domains; and to let nothing on earth persuade him to lead his forces outside the state, but to keep well within his own borders awaiting invasion with all his forces intact. Of this advice he took no notice, but sent an army into the Romagna, where without fighting a battle he lost both his army and his throne.

Besides the reasons adduced above, others are adduced by either side, such as that he who takes the offensive shows more spirit than he who awaits an attack, and so inspires his army with more confidence; and, in addition to this, deprives the enemy of the power to utilize his own resources since he cannot avail himself of those subjects who have been despoiled. Also, owing to his having the enemy within his own domain, the ruler has to be more careful about imposing taxes and other intolerable burdens on his subjects; so that, in the end, as Hannibal said, the fount from which he can draw supplies for the war, will run dry. Moreover, the invader’s troops being in a foreign country, there would be all the more necessity for them to fight, and necessity engenders virtue, as we have often remarked.

On behalf of the other view it is said that to await the enemy’s attack has many advantages; for, without any disadvantage to yourself, you can impose on him many disadvantages in the matter of provisions and of anything else of which an army has need; you can also the better thwart his plans owing to your having a better knowledge of the country than he has; and, again, you can oppose him with stronger forces owing to the ease with which you can bring them all together, which you could not do were they all at a distance from their homes; also, if you are routed, you can easily reform, both because a considerable part of your army will survive since it has a refuge at hand, and because reinforcements have not to come from a distance: so that, though you may have to risk all your forces, you will not be risking your whole fortune, whereas, abroad, you would be risking your whole fortune, but not risking all your forces. There have, indeed, been some who, in order to weaken the enemy more, have allowed him to advance for several days into their country and take a number of towns, so that he may weaken his army owing to the garrisons he leaves in all of them, and thus it will be easier to face him in battle.

Let me now say what I think about this. I think a distinction must be made. For either I have my country well equipped with arms, as the Romans had and as the Swiss have; or I have a country ill equipped with arms, as the Carthaginians had, and as have the king of France and the Italians today. In the latter case the enemy should be kept at a distance, for, since your virtue lies in money, not in men, as soon as anything gets in the way of your obtaining it, you may be undone; nor does anything impede you so much as does war in your own domains. This is exemplified by the Carthaginians, who, so long as their country was unoccupied, could use the revenue to make war on the Romans, but, when it was attacked, could not withstand Agathocles. Nor had the Florentines any remedy against Castruccio, Lord of Lucca, because he waged war on them within their own lands, so that, to defend themselves, they had to submit to Robert of Naples. Yet, after Castruccio’s death, these same Florentines summoned up courage to attack the duke of Milan in his own territory and strove to deprive him of his kingdom. Thus, they displayed great virtue in waging war away from home, but great cowardice when it was near at hand.

But when states are strongly armed, as Rome was and as the Swiss are, the more difficult it is to overcome them the nearer they are to their homes: for such bodies can bring more forces together to resist attack than they can to attack others. Nor on this point am I impressed by the authority of Hannibal, for it was resentment and self-interest that made him say what he did say to Antiochus. For, had the three disastrous defeats Hannibal inflicted on the Romans in Italy taken place in Gaul in the same space of time, the Romans would undoubtedly have been undone, since they would have been unable to make use of the forces that survived, as they were able to do in Italy; nor would it have been so easy for them to re-form; nor yet would they have been able with such forces to withstand the enemy, as they were able to do. One does not find that, in attacking a foreign country, they ever sent out armies of more than fifty thousand men; but for home defence they put under arms against the Gauls after the first Punic war eighteen hundred thousand. Nor would they have been able later on to vanquish them in Lombardy as they vanquished them in Tuscany because against so numerous an enemy they would not have been able to bring to that distance such strong forces, nor have fought them under the same advantageous conditions. The Cimbri broke up a Roman army in Germany, and the Romans had no way to repair their defeat. But, when the Cimbri arrived in Italy, and against them the Romans could bring all their forces to bear, they were undone. The Swiss are easy to beat when away from home, whither they cannot send more than thirty or forty thousand men; but to defeat them at home where they can muster a hundred thousand, is very difficult.

In conclusion, therefore, I say again that a ruler who has his people well armed and equipped for war, should always wait at home to wage war with a powerful and dangerous enemy, and should not go out to meet him; but that one who has ill-armed subjects and a country unused to war should always meet the enemy as far away from home as he can. Both of them will in this way defend themselves better, each in his degree.

Book Two, Discourse 13. Men rise from a Low to a Great Position by Means rather of Fraud than of Force (44)

It is quite true, I think, that seldom, if ever, do men of low positiona obtain high rank except by force and by fraud, though there are, of course, others to whom rank comes merely by way of gift or inheritance. Nor do I think that force by itself ever suffices, whereas instances can easily be found in which fraud alone has sufficed. Anyone who has read the life of Philip of Macedon or that of Agathocles the Sicilian, for instance, or others of that ilk, will see that, from an extremely low, or at any rate a low position, they rose either to a kingdom or to very great power. Xenophon, in his Life of Cyrus, calls attention to the necessity for deceit. For in view of the amount of fraud used in the first expedition Cyrus made against the King of Armenia, and of the fact that it was by means of deceit, not by means of force, that he acquired his kingdom, one cannot but conclude from such actions that a prince who wishes to do great things must learn to practise deceit. Besides this, Xenophon also makes him deceive Cyaxares, king of the Medes, his maternal uncle, in various ways, and shows that without such frauds Cyrus could not have attained the greatness he did attain.

Nor do I think that anyone can be found whose position at the outset was humble, but who subsequently acquired vast power simply by the use of open and undisguised force: but it can quite well be done by using only fraud, as was done by Giovanni Galeazzo in order to deprive his uncle, Bernabo, of his position as ruler of Lombardy. And what princes have to do at the outset of their career, republics also must do until such time as they become powerful and can rely on force alone.

Since in all her decisions, whether by chance or by choice, Rome took all steps necessary to make herself great, she did not overlook fraud. She could not at the start have been more deceitful than she was in the means she took, as we were saying just now, to acquire allies, since under this title she made them her servants, as was the case with the Latins and other peoples round about. For she first availed herself of their arms in order to subjugate neighbouring peoples and to build up her reputation as a state, and then, having subdued them, she increased to such an extent that she could beat anyone. Nor would the Latins ever have realized that in reality they were mere slaves, if they had not seen the Samnites twice defeated and forced to accept Rome’s terms. Since this victory increased the already great reputation of the Romans with more distant rulers, who thus felt the impact of her name though not of her arms, envy and suspicion were aroused in those who did see and feel the weight of her arms, among them the Latins. So strong became this envy and this dread that not only the Latins, but also the colonies Rome had in Latium, together with the Campanians who a short while before had been defended by Rome, joined in a conspiracy against her. The Latins provoked this war in the way in which most wars are provoked, as has been pointed out above, namely, not by attacking the Romans, but by protecting the Sidicines against the Samnites, who had made war on them with Rome’s sanction. That the Latins were moved to do this because they recognized the deceit Rome had practised, is shown by the words Titus Livy puts into the mouth of Annius Setinus, the Latin praetor, when speaking before the allied council: ‘For if under cover of a treaty between equals it has been possible to reduce us to servitude’, and so forth.{45}

It is clear, therefore, that, when the power of the Romans was first beginning to grow, they did not fail to use fraud; of which it is always necessary that those should make use who from small beginnings wish to rise to sublime heights, and the better they conceal it, as the Romans did, the less blameworthy it is.

Book Two, Discourse 14. Men often make the Mistake of supposing that Pride is overcome by Humility

There are to be found numerous cases in which humility is not only no help, but is a hindrance, especially when used in dealing with arrogant men who, either out of envy or for some other cause, have come to hate you. This, our historian assures us, was the cause of the war between the Romans and the Latins. For, when the Samnites complained to the Romans that the Latins had attacked them, the Romans were unwilling to forbid the Latins to make war on them, because they did not wish to annoy them. Yet, by so doing, they not only annoyed them, but intensified their animosity and caused them the sooner to become open enemies. This is borne out by what the prefect, Annius, the Latin praetor, said to the aforementioned council of the allies: ‘You have tried their patience, by refusing them troops. Who can doubt that this has made them angry? Yet they have put up with it. They have heard that we have an army ready to attack their allies, the Samnites, yet they have not stirred from the city. To what is this marked modesty due if it be not that they are aware of the strength of our respective forces, ours and their own?’ This shows very clearly how much the patience of the Romans intensified the arrogance of the Latins.

A ruler, therefore, should never forget his dignity, nor, if he cares for his honour, should he ever waive a point agreed upon unless he can enforce it, or thinks he can enforce it. For it is almost always better, when your position is such that you cannot in this way make the concession, to let it be extracted by force rather than by the threat of force; because, if you yield to a threat, you do so in order to avoid war, and more often than not, you do not avoid war. For those before whom you have thus openly demeaned yourself by yielding, will not stop there, but will seek to extort further concessions, and the less they esteem you the more incensed will they become against you. On the other hand, you will find your supporters growing cooler towards you, since they will look upon you as weak or pusillanimous. But if, as soon as you become aware of your adversary’s intentions, you prepare to use force, even though your forces be inferior to his, he will begin to respect you, and, since those with which you were allied will now esteem you, they will be ready to help when you begin to arm, which they would never have done had you given up.

This applies where you have but one enemy. If you have more, the wiser course is to hand over some of your possessions to one of them so as to win him to your side even after war has been declared, and that you may detach a member of the confederation which is hostile to you.

Book Two, Discourse 15. The Decisions of Weak States are always fraught with Ambiguity, and the Slowness with which they arrive at them is Harmful

In regard to the topic we have been discussing in connection with the outbreak of war between the Romans and the Latins, it may be remarked that in all consultations it is well to come to the point which is under discussion, not to remain ever hesitant and uncertain in regard to the real issue. This is brought out very clearly in the consultation the Latins held when they were considering whether to leave the Roman confederation. For, when the Romans came to be aware of the ill humour with which the Latin peoples had become imbued, in order to clear up the situation and to see whether they could not regain the loyalty of these peoples without having recourse to arms, they suggested to them that they should send eight citizens to Rome to discuss the matter. On hearing this, the Latins, conscious that they had in many things acted contrary to the wishes of the Romans, held a council to decide who should go to Rome and to instruct them what to say. During the discussion of the question in council, Annius, their praetor, got up and said: ‘It seems to me to be of the utmost importance in this business that you should consider what is to be done rather than what is to be said. It will be easy, when you have arrived at a decision, to accommodate words to acts.’

This assertion is undoubtedly true, and every prince and every republic should ponder it well. For, where there is ambiguity and uncertainty as to what others want to do, it is impossible to choose the right words; but, once one’s mind is made up and it has been decided how to implement one’s decision, it is easy to find the right words. I am the more ready to call attention to this, since I have often noticed what harm such ambiguity has done in public affairs, to the detriment and to the discredit of this republic of ours. Where there is doubt as to which course to choose and it requires courage to decide, this ambiguity will always be found if on the point under discussion the decision rests with weak men.

Slow and tardy decisions are no less harmful than are ambiguous decisions, especially when the point at issue is whether support is to be given to an ally; for by such slowness nobody benefits and to oneself it does harm. Slowness in arriving at decisions proceeds either from lack of courage and of strength, or from malevolence on the part of those with whom the decision rests. In the latter case men who are moved by their own appetites to seek either the downfall of the government or the fulfilment of some other aim of theirs, do not let the discussion follow its normal course, but impede it and raise difficulties; whereas good citizens even though they see that popular indignation is bent on taking a pernicious course, never place obstacles in the way of a decision, especially if the matter be urgent.

After the death of Hieronymus, the tyrant of Syracuse, when the great war between Carthaginians and Romans was still going on, a dispute arose among the Syracusans as to whether they should ally themselves with Rome or with Carthage. So great was the ardour displayed by each side that the issue remained doubtful and no decision was taken until Apollonides, one of the chief men in Syracuse, delivered an extremely prudent speech in which he showed that, though no blame attached to those who were in favour of an alliance with the Romans, nor to those who wanted to throw in their lot with the Carthaginians, yet ambiguity and slowness in reaching a decision was to be deprecated, for it was clear to him that this wavering would bring about the ruin of the republic, whereas, should they arrive at a decision, whichever way it went, they might expect good to come of it.

Nor could Titus Livy have shown more clearly than does this passage the harm that comes from indecision. He shows it, too, in an incident involving the Latins, for, when the Lavinians were asked to help them against the Romans, the former put off deciding so long that, when they were actually marching out through the city gate with an army to give succour to the Latins, news came that the Latins had been defeated. Whereupon Milionius, their praetor, said: ‘For this short journey the Romans will make us pay dear.’ For, had they decided at first either to help or not to help the Latins, they would by not helping them have avoided annoying the Romans, and by helping them in good time, might by means of their combined forces have enabled them to win; but by their procrastination they stood to lose either way, as happened in point of fact.

Nor, had the Florentines noted the significance of this incident, would they have suffered such losses nor such vexations at the hands of the French as they did when the French king, Louis XII, moved into Italy on his way to attack Ludovico Sforza, Duke of Milan. For, when the king was considering this expedition, he sought to come to terms with the Florentines; and their representatives, who were then at his court, agreed that they should remain neutral, and that, in return, when the king came to Italy, their form of government should be maintained, and Florence should receive his protection. The city was given a month to ratify this agreement. Its ratification, however, was put off, owing to the imprudence of those who sympathized with the cause of Ludovico; so that, when the King was already on the point of victory and the Florentines then wanted to ratify the agreement, their proposal was not accepted, since the King knew that they were forced to take this line, and were not doing it voluntarily out of friendship for him. This cost the city of Florence no small sum of money, and came near to causing a revolution, which on another occasion was actually brought about in this way. The course they took was the more harmful in that it in no way helped the Duke, who, had he won, would have displayed much more hostility towards the Florentines than did the King.

Though the evils to which this weakness gives rise in republics I have already discussed under another heading, I decided to avail myself of the opportunity provided by a fresh incident to repeat what I had said, since it seems to me to be a matter of which republics, especially those that resemble ours, should take careful note.

Book Two, Discourses 16–18: The Army, Its Discipline and Component Parts

Book Two, Discourse 16. How far the Discipline of Troops in our Day falls short of that maintained in Days gone by (46)

The most important battle ever fought by the Romans in any war with another nation was the battle they fought with the Latin peoples in the consulate of Torquatus and Decius. For everything shows that, just as the Latins by losing became a subject people, so the Romans would have become a subject people, had they not won. This is the view held by Titus Livy, for in all respects the two armies were alike in discipline, virtue, truculence and in numbers; the only difference was that the commanders of the Roman army had more virtuosity than those of the Latin army.

One notes, too, how in the conduct of this battle there occurred two unprecedented incidents of which there have been but few examples since; namely, to strengthen the resolution of the soldiers and to make them obey orders, of the two consuls one killed himself and the other killed his son. The parity which Titus Livy says held between the two armies was due to their having for a long time waged war together, and consisted in their having the same language, the same discipline, and the same kind of arms, for in drawing up troops for battle they used the same formation, and both units and officers bore the same names. It was essential, therefore, since both in strength and in virtù they were equal, that something extraordinary should take place whereby to strengthen the ardour and truculence of the one rather than the other, for, as we have remarked on other occasions, it is on determination that victory depends, since, so long as it lasts in the breasts of those who are fighting, an army will never turn tail. And in order that it might last longer in the breasts of the Romans than with the Latins it came about, owing partly to chance and partly to the virtue of the consuls, that Torquatus had to kill his son and Decius to kill himself.

When pointing out this parity in strength Titus Livy describes in detail how the Romans drew up their armies and how they disposed them for battle. He has done this at considerable length, so I shall not repeat it all, but shall discuss the points which I deem worthy of note, points which are ignored by all present-day commanders, with the result that there is a grave lack of proper order alike in drawing up armies and in battle. From Livy we gather that in the Roman army there were three main divisions for which the Tuscan term three ‘ranks’ may be used. They called the first Hastati, the second Principes, the third Triarii. Each had its own cavalry attached. In drawing them up for battle, they put the Hastati in front; in the second place, immediately behind the Hastati, they put the Principes; in the third, all covering precisely the same space, they placed the Triarii. The cavalry pertaining to each of these divisions they put on the right and on the left of the three formations. These mounted troops, on account of their formation and their position, were called alae, because they looked like two wings attached to the body. They drew up the first rank, consisting of the Hastati who were in front, in close formation, so that they might thrust forward and hold up the enemy. The second rank, consisting of Principes, since they were not to be engaged at the outset, but were to come to the aid of the first should they be beaten or hard pressed, they did not draw up in such close formation, but kept their lines thinner so that this rank could receive the first rank, without disturbing its formation, should the latter be overcome by the enemy and have to fall back. The third rank consisting of Triarii, were drawn up in yet thinner lines than the second, so as to receive the two first ranks, comprising Principes and Hastati, should need arise. When their ranks had thus been drawn up in this formation, they went into battle; and, should the Hastati be forced back or defeated, they fell straight back upon the thinner ranks of the Principes, and the two ranks, thus united to form one compact body, resumed the fight. Should these ranks be beaten and forced to retreat, they retired upon the thinner ranks of the Triarii, and all three ranks, together forming one body, renewed the fight. But should they be overcome, the day was lost, since they had no further chance to re-form. Wherefore, since every time this last rank of Triarii became engaged, it meant danger to the army, there arose the proverb: ‘It all depends on the Triarii’, or, as we say in the Tuscan idiom: ‘We have played the last stake’.

As generals in our days have abandoned all other traditions and pay no attention to any point in ancient military discipline, so they have abandoned it in regard to this point, which is of no small importance. For where an army is so drawn up as to be able to re-form three times during a battle, to lose the day luck must go against it three times and the valour of those attacking it must be sufficient to beat it three times over. But an army that can withstand but one attack, as is the case with all Christian armies, may easily lose, for, if it become in any way disorganized or its valour be but indifferent, its chance of victory goes. The inability of our armies thrice to re-form is due to their having dropped the custom of receiving one rank into the other. This in turn is due to there being in present-day battle-formations one of two defects: either they station their ranks one alongside the other, and make their formations broad in extent but thin in the line of attack, which makes them weaker owing to their lack of depth; or when, to make them stronger, they actually draw up the ranks in Roman fashion, then, since no arrangement is made for the first to be received by the second, when the first is routed, all get mixed up together and defeat themselves. For if the rank in front gets the worst of it, it collides with the second; and, if the second wants to advance, it is impeded by the first. Hence when the first falls back on the second, and the second on the third, so much confusion arises that the whole army is frequently ruined should the least misadventure befall.

At the battle of Ravenna, in which Monsieur de Foix who commanded the armies of France was killed – a well-fought battle as things go today – both the Spanish and the French armies were drawn up in one of the ways just described, i.e. each of the two armies advanced with all its troops drawn up shoulder to shoulder so that both presented but a single front which was much greater in extent than it was in depth. This is always their procedure when they are operating on a large plain such as they had at Ravenna; for, realizing the disorder a retreat causes when troops are arranged in files, they avoid this, when they can, by making their front broad, as has been said. But should the available space be narrow they put up with the aforesaid bad arrangement without providing any remedy. And in the same bad formation they ride through the enemy’s country, whether to loot it or to perform any other military manoeuvre.

Again, at San. Regolo in the territory of Pisa, as also at other places in which the Florentines were routed by the Pisans during the war which took place between the Florentines and that city owing to its having rebelled after Charles, king of France, passed through Italy, the disaster was entirely due to the allied cavalry which, being in front and having been repulsed by the enemy, fell back on the Florentine infantry and broke it up, so that the rest of the troops all turned tail. Messer Ciriaco dal Borgo, once a captain of Florentine infantry has also often stated in my presence that he had never been routed except by the cavalry of his allies. The Swiss, who are masters of modern warfare, when fighting on the French side, make it their first care to station themselves on the flanks, so that, should the allied cavalry be driven back, it will not clash with them. Yet, though such things are both easy to understand and very easy to carry out, none the less there has not appeared as yet any of our contemporary generals who has adopted the ancient formations and emended the modern ones. And though they may again have the threefold army formation, called respectively the vanguard, the main body and the rearguard, it serves no purpose other than that of disposing men in billets. Moreover, when they make use of it, as was said above, it rarely happens that the self-same fortune does not befall all these bodies.

Since many, to cover their ignorance, assert that the destructive power of artillery does not in these days permit the use of many ancient practices, I propose to discuss this question in the following chapter, and to inquire whether artillery renders it impossible to display the valour of days gone by.

Book Two, Discourse 17. In what Esteem Artillery should be held by Armies at the Present Time, and whether the Opinion universally held in its Regard is Sound

When in addition to what I have just written, I consider how many open battles which in our time the French call ‘days’ and the Italians call ‘feats of arms’, were fought by the Romans at different times, there comes to my mind the common opinion so many hold, an opinion which would have it that, had there been artillery in those days, it would not have been possible for the Romans to have conquered provinces and to have made peoples become their tributaries so easily as they did; nor would they have been able in any way to make such bold acquisitions. They allege, too, that the use of these destructive weapons prevents men from employing and displaying their virtue as they used to do of old. And as a third point they add that it is more difficult than it was then to come to an engagement, and that it is impossible to keep to the ancient usages. In fact, war before long will be reduced to the question of artillery.

I do not think it beside the point to discuss whether this view is sound, or to inquire whether artillery has increased or has lessened the strength of armies, and whether it has deprived good generals of, or has provided them with, an opportunity for acting ‘virtuously’. So let me begin by dealing with the first of these claims, namely, that Roman armies of old would not have made the acquisitions they did make, if in those days there had been artillery.

In reply to this I would point out that wars are either offensive or defensive. Hence we must first ask to which of these two kinds of warfare artillery is the more useful or the more dangerous. Though there is something to be said for either view, yet I am convinced that artillery is incomparably more harmful to defenders than to those who attack. The reason why I say this is that the defenders are either in a walled town or are encamped behind a stockade. If they are within a walled town, either it is small, as are most fortresses, or it is large. In the first case, it is all up with the defenders, for the force of artillery is such that no wall can stand it, not even the thickest, for more than a few days. Hence if those within have not a goodly space into which to retire and dig trenches and build ramparts they are doomed. Nor can they withstand the attack of an enemy determined to force his way through a gap in the walls, even if they have artillery to help them, for it is an accepted maxim that against a heavy massed attack artillery is powerless. For this reason the defending of towns against the fury of ultramontane attacks has not been successful but against the assaults of Italians they have been highly successful, for the latter do not attack en masse but in detachments, a form of attack for which much the best name is skirmishing. To advance thus coolly in such weak formation towards a breach in the walls where there is artillery, is to advance to certain death, and against such attacks artillery is of service. But when the attackers form a dense mass and come on one after the other to a breach in the walls, they get through anywhere unless held up by trenches and ramparts. Artillery will not hold them, for, though some get killed, there will not be so many killed as to prevent a victory.

That this is so is shown by the many towns stormed by the ultramontanes in Italy, and especially by that of Brescia. For when this town rebelled against the French who still held the citadel on behalf of the king of France, in order to prevent raids being made on the town from the citadel, the Venetians fortified the whole of the street leading down from the citadel to the city with artillery, placing it both in front and on the flanks and in any other convenient place. But of this Monsieur de Foix made no account. On the contrary, with a squadron of his cavalry, who dismounted, he got right through the artillery and took the city; nor do we hear that the artillery caused him any appreciable loss. So that the defenders of a small town, as we have said, when they find their walls laid low and have no space into which to retire behind ramparts and in trenches, but have to rely on their artillery, are speedily undone.

If you are defending a large town where you have all you need for a withdrawal, artillery is still of far greater use to those who are outside than to those who are within. First, because, if artillery is to do any damage to those who are outside, you must needs raise it above the level of the ground, for, if on the level, every little trench the enemy digs and every rampart he puts up will afford him security, and you can do him no harm. So much so that, having raised your artillery and dragged it into some recess in the walls or having in some other way elevated it above the ground, you will then meet with two difficulties. First, you cannot bring into action artillery of the same size and power as those outside can avail themselves of, since in a small space it is impossible to manipulate large pieces. Secondly, should you succeed in getting it there, you will not be able to construct reliable and safe ramparts whereby to protect the said artillery, which can be done quite easily outside, on terra firma, where there are all the conveniences and as much space as anyone can want. Hence it is impossible for the defenders of a town to have their artillery in high positions when those who are outside have enough artillery and that of a powerful kind; and if they are driven to place it in a low position, it is in large part useless, as has been said. Consequently, the defence of a city has to be carried on by hand-to-hand fighting, as was done of old, supported by artillery of very light calibre. Wherefore, though some slight benefit may accrue from this light artillery, it brings with it a disadvantage which counterbalances the advantage due to artillery, because, owing to the heavy artillery, the walls of towns are demolished and lie flat, buried, as it were, in ditches, so that, when it comes to hand-to-hand fighting, the defenders have a worse time of it than they had before, since their walls have been battered down or their trenches filled up. These engines of war, therefore, as was said above, are of more use to the besiegers of towns than they are to the besieged.

As to the third point, if your camp has been placed behind a stockade so as to avoid open battle unless it suit your convenience and is to your advantage, I claim that in this case you are ordinarily no better off in regard to preventing an engagement than was the case in the old days, and that there are times when, on account of artillery, you may be at a greater disadvantage. For, should the enemy come upon you and have a slight advantage in position, as may easily happen should he find himself on higher ground than yours; or should you on his arriving not yet have made your trenches and dug yourself well in; straightway, and without your being able to do anything about it, he will dislodge you and you will have to quit your fortified position and join battle. This happened to the Spaniards at the battle of Ravenna. They had fortified themselves on the banks of the Ronco, but the earthworks they had thrown up were not sufficiently high and the French had a slight advantage in position, so that they were compelled by artillery to quit their fortifications and join battle. But suppose, as should usually be the case, that the site you have chosen for the camp is above that occupied by the enemy and that its earthworks are good and strong, so that, owing to your position and the other preparations you have made, the enemy does not dare to attack, it will be found that in such a case recourse will be had to the methods that were used in ancient times when someone had his army in a position in which it could not be attacked, namely, to scouring the country, taking or laying siege to towns that are friendly to you, and cutting off your supplies, so that you will be forced under such conditions to leave your camp and come out into the open, where artillery, as I shall presently point out, cannot do much. In view, therefore, of the reasons for which the Romans made war, and seeing that almost all their wars were of the offensive and not of the defensive type, it would seem that what we have said above holds good, namely, that it would have been to their advantage and would have speeded up their conquests, had there been artillery in those days.

As to the second charge, which alleges that men cannot display their valour as they used to do of old, on account of artillery, I admit it is true that, where men in small detachments have to expose themselves, there is greater danger now than then, should they have to scale the walls of a town or to make an assault of this kind not with a compact body of troops but individually, first one appearing and then another. It is also true that the officers and generals of an army are more exposed to the danger of death now than then, since anywhere they may come under artillery fire. Nor does it help them to be in the last squadron or to be supported by very brave men. One finds, none the less, that rarely does either of these two dangers occasion any out-of-the-way loss. For the walls of well-fortified towns cannot be scaled, nor are attacks on them made with weak troops. If a town is to be taken, it has to be besieged, just as it was of old. Nor, even when it is taken by assault are the dangers much greater now than they were then, for the defenders of towns even in those days did not lack equipment for launching projectiles, which, if not so terrifying, were no less effective in the matter of killing men. As to the death of officers and army commanders, in the last twenty-four years during which there have been wars in Italy, there have been fewer cases than there were during ten years of war in olden times. For, except for Count Ludovico della Mirandola, who was killed at Ferrara when the Venetians attacked that state a few years ago, and for the Duke of Nemours, who was killed abroad at Cerignuola, artillery has not killed anybody; for Monsieur de Foix was killed with a sword, not by a cannon-ball. Hence if men do not, as individuals, display their valour, it is not due to artillery, but to bad methods and to the weakness of {modern} armies, for since they lack valour as a whole, they cannot display it in the part.

To their third allegation which is that it is impossible to bring about a hand-to-hand fight and that war will eventually become a matter of artillery, I reply that this statement is altogether false, and will always be looked on as false by those who want their armies to display in their operations the virtue of ancient times. For it behoves him who wants to form a good army, to accustom his men by means of sham fights or real fights to engage the enemy at close quarters, sword in hand. Hence he should rely more on infantry than on cavalry, for reasons which will presently be given. And, if he does rely on infantry, trained as we have said, artillery becomes quite useless, since it is easier for infantry when engaging the enemy to avoid cannon-balls than it was of old for them to avoid an attack by elephants or by chariots armed with scythes, or other unfamiliar weapons such as the Roman infantry had to encounter. Against such devices they always found a remedy; and against artillery would the more easily have found a remedy in that the time during which it may harm you is shorter than that during which elephants and scythed chariots could do you harm. For the latter throw you into disorder during a battle, whereas the former is a nuisance only before the fight begins; and this nuisance infantry easily avoid either by availing themselves of such cover as the site offers or by lying flat on the ground when a volley comes. Experience, however, has shown that this is unnecessary, especially as a defence against heavy artillery; for with heavy artillery the range cannot be so nicely adjusted. Hence either the fire is too high, and does not get you, or it is too low and falls short of you.

Again, when armies come to hand-to-hand conflict, it is as clear as the day that neither heavy nor light artillery can hurt you. For if the enemy place it in front, you capture it; and, if he puts it behind, it hits his own folk before it hits you; while on the flanks it cannot do you so much damage but that you can go and get it, so that in the end it all comes to much the same thing. Nor is there much question about this. For it is clear from the case of the Swiss, who at Novara in 1513 were without either artillery or cavalry, yet went for the French army, which was supported by artillery in a fortified position, and found no difficulty on this account in breaking it up.

The reason for this, besides what I said above, is that, if artillery is to function, it must be protected either by walls or trenches or earthworks, and, if either form of protection is lacking, it either gets taken or becomes useless, just as happens when men have to defend it in pitched battles and open engagements. Nor can it be used on the flanks except in the way the ancients used projectile launching devices. Such instruments were then placed outside the main body, in order that they might function outside the ranks, and, should those who used them be overcome at any time by cavalry or other forces, they took refuge behind the regular troops. Those who expect anything more from artillery do not understand it properly and place their trust in what can easily let them down. And if by using artillery the Turk gained a victory over Sophy and the Sultan, it was solely in virtue of the panic caused among their cavalry by its unfamiliar noise.

On coming, then, to the end of this discourse, my conclusion is that artillery is useful to an army provided it be backed by valour such as was displayed of old; but, without this, it is of not the least use against a valorous army.(47)

Book Two, Discourse 18. That Infantry should be more highly esteemed than Cavalry is shown by the Authority of the Romans and by the Example of Ancient Military Practice

It is possible to give many reasons and to cite many cases showing clearly how much greater esteem the Romans had for foot-soldiers than for cavalry in all military operations, and how upon this basis they drew up all plans for their forces. Numerous instances illustrate this; among others the battle fought with the Latins near Lake Regillus, where, when the Roman army began to give way, to support them some troops on horseback were ordered to dismount and fight on foot, by which means the battle was renewed and a victory gained. From which it is obvious that the Romans had more confidence in their men when on foot than when mounted. They used this expedient in many other battles, and always found it the best remedy in dangerous situations.

Nor can this be countered by the opinion expressed by Hannibal when during the battle of Cannae he noticed that the consuls had made their cavalry dismount, and joked about it, saying: ‘Quam mallem vinctos mihi traderent equites,’ i.e. ‘I should have liked it better had they handed the horsemen over to me bound.’ Though this opinion is voiced by a first-class man, yet, if it be a question of authority, one should put more credence in a Roman republic and in the many first-class generals who were in it than in Hannibal alone. Furthermore, apart from an appeal to authority, sound reasons can be adduced; for a foot-soldier can get to many places to which a mounted man cannot go; infantry can be taught to keep their ranks, and, when broken, know how to re-form them, whereas it is difficult for cavalry to keep their ranks, and impossible for them to re-form when their ranks are disorganized. Besides which, one finds that horses, like men, sometimes have little spirit and sometimes a great deal, and quite often it happens that a spirited horse is ridden by a timid man and a timid horse by a man of spirit; and of whichever kind the disparity be, the result is subversive of utility and order.

Infantry when well drawn up, can easily break cavalry, but with difficulty are routed by them. This view is corroborated not only by many instances, both ancient and modern, but also by authors who prescribe rules for the conduct of civic affairs and in them show that wars were first fought with cavalry, since there were then no rules for drawing up infantry; but when these were made, it was at once recognized that infantry are more useful than cavalry. But it does not follow from this that cavalry is not essential to an army alike for the purpose of scouting, of raiding and pillaging the country, of pursuing the enemy when in flight, and again as a partial counterpoise to the cavalry of the adversary: but it is infantry that should constitute the basis and sinews of an army and that should be held in the higher esteem.

Among the sins committed by Italian princes who have made Italy the slave of the foreigner, there is none more grave than that of having held this arm of small account and of having devoted all their attention to mounted troops. This mismanagement is due to the perversity of captainsa and to the ignorance of those who hold office. For the Italian militia having lost all official status during the last twenty-five years had become like soldiers of fortune. It occurred to the militia that their reputation would be made if they had the armed forces while the rulers had none. Since, then, they could not maintain a large number of infantry continually in their pay and they had no subjects of whom they could avail themselves, and since a small number would not make their reputation, they turned to cavalry; for with two or three hundred cavalry in his pay, the reputation of a condottiere was safe, and the pay was not such as to prevent him getting it from ministers of state. So the more easily to attain their end and to keep up their reputation they made light of all the esteem and repute in which infantry was held, and applied it instead to their own cavalry: an abuse which has grown to such an extent that even of the largest armies the infantry constitute but a fraction. It is this practice, conjoined with numerous other abuses associated with it, that has made the Italian militia so weak that Italy has become an easy prey, downtrodden by all the ultramontanes.

To show yet more clearly what a mistake it is to prefer cavalry to infantry, I shall take another example from Rome. The Romans were encamped before Sora. From the town there came forth a troop of cavalry to attack their camp. The Roman master of horse advanced to meet them with his cavalry. When they met, luck would have it that at their first encounter the officers commanding both bodies of troops were killed. Though without their leaders, the fight none the less went on, and that they might the more easily get the better of their foes, the Romans dismounted, and forced the enemy’s cavalry in order to defend themselves, to do the same; by which means the Romans gained the victory. Than this example none shows better how much more virtue there is in infantry than in cavalry; for in other actions the consuls made the Roman cavalry dismount that they might help the infantry who were hard pressed and were in need of support; but in this case they dismounted, not to help the infantry, nor yet to engage the enemy’s foot-soldiers, but because, while fighting as cavalry against cavalry, it occurred to them that, since as cavalry they could not prevail, they might win more easily by dismounting. Whence I infer that it is only with the greatest difficult that infantry when properly drawn up, can be overcome except by other infantry.

Crassus and Mark Antony, two Romans, overran the domains of the Parthians for many days with very few cavalry but plenty of infantry, though against them they had vast numbers of Parthian cavalry. Crassus with part of the army got killed, but Mark Antony fought valiantlya and escaped. None the less, in the misfortunes the Romans suffered, we see how much more value infantry were than cavalry, for the country was vast, mountains scarce, streams very scarce, the sea far away, and no conveniences at hand; yet Mark Antony, as the Parthians themselves admitted, saved himself by his outstanding virtue; nor did the Parthian cavalry, numerous as it was, ever dare to try conclusions with his army. And, if Crassus was left behind, he who studies closely the record of his doings, will see that it was by deceit rather than by force that he was undone, for, in spite of all his troubles, the Parthians never ventured to attack him. On the contrary, they always went roaming about, intercepting his convoys, making promises which they did not keep, till they had reduced him to dire extremity.

I should have been at more pains, I think, to prove that the ‘virtue’ of infantry is more potent than that of cavalry if there had not been so many recent examples which provide abundant evidence of this. There were the nine thousand Swiss we have already mentioned, who at Novara proceeded to attack ten thousand cavalry and as many infantry, and beat them; for the cavalry could not get at them, and they thought little of the infantry, since it consisted for the most part of Gascons and was badly organized. Then there were the twenty-six thousand Swiss who went as far as Milan to look for Francis, king of France, who had with him twenty thousand cavalry, forty thousand infantry, and a hundred pieces of artillery; and if they did not win the day as they had done at Novara, they fought valiantlya for two days, and, though routed, got away with half their forces. Marcus Regulus Atilius had the courage to oppose not only cavalry, but elephants, with infantry; and, if his project did not succeed, it was not because his infantry were so lacking in virtue, that he had not sufficient confidence in them to believe that they would overcome the difficulty. I repeat, then, that to get the better of well-disciplined infantry it is necessary to bring against them better disciplined infantry; otherwise the case is plainly hopeless.(48)

In the days of Philip Visconti, Duke of Milan, there descended on Lombardy about sixteen thousand Swiss. Whereupon the Duke, whose forces were then commanded by Carmignuola, sent him with about a thousand cavalry and a few infantry to meet them. Carmignuola, unacquainted with their way of fighting, attacked them with his cavalry, assuming that he would be able to break them at once. But they stood firm, and, having lost many of his men, he retired. Being, however, a very brave man, who knew how to take fresh chances when circumstances changed, as soon as reinforcements came along to make up his strength, he went to meet them, told all his men-at-arms to dismount, and, putting them at the head of his infantry, set out to attack the Swiss. For whom there was no escape, because Carmignuola’s men-at-arms having dismounted and being well protected by armour, they could easily pierce the ranks of the Swiss without suffering any harm, and, having got through, could easily overcome them. The result was that of all the Swiss there remained alive only those whom the humanity of Carmignuola chose to spare.

I believe many are aware of the difference in virtue that exists between these two kinds of troops, but so unhappy are these our times that neither ancient nor modern examples nor its being admittedly a mistake is sufficient to make modern rulers revise their point of view and realize that, if a province or a state is to keep up its military reputation, it is essential to resuscitate these services, to have them at hand, to restore their credit, to put fresh life into them, so that they may bring to the ruler both life and reputation. But, as rulers have departed from these ways, so they have departed from others mentioned above, and in consequence acquisitions do harm to a state instead of contributing to its greatness, as will presently be pointed out.

Book Two, Discourses 19–23: The Administration of Conquered Territory and Other Problems Which Admit of No Middle Course

Book Two, Discourse 19. Acquisitions made by Republics, when not well governed nor handled with the Virtue the Romans displayed, contribute to the Downfall, not to the Advancement, of such Republics

The erroneous views, based on ill-chosen examples, which have been introduced by our corrupt age, prevent men from considering whether to depart from the customary methods. Who could have persuaded an Italian, thirty years ago, that ten thousand infantry could attack ten thousand cavalry and as many infantry in an open plain and not only engage them in battle but defeat them, as happened at Novara – to cite a case already mentioned more than once? Even though history is full of such examples, nobody would have credited them; and, had they been credited, it would have been objected that in these days there are better arms, and that a squadron of men-at-arms should be able to hurl itself against a rock, not merely against an infantry battalion. With such false pretexts men impaired their judgement; nor would they have taken into account that Lucullus with a small force of infantry routed a hundred and fifty thousand cavalry under Tigranes, and that among these horsemen was a type of cavalry precisely similar to our own men-at-arms; nor yet again how this fallacy has been exposed by the example of ultramontane peoples.

And since what history teaches about infantry is thus seen to be true, in the same way one should give credit to, and profit by, all other ancient practices. Were this done, republics and princes would make fewer mistakes, would be stronger in repelling an attack which should catch them unawares, and would not set their hopes on flight. Those who have to handle a body politic would know better how to direct its policy, whether with a view to its expanding or to holding its own; would realize that the right way to make a republic great and for it to acquire an empire is to increase the number of its inhabitants, to make other states its allies, not its subjects, to send out colonies for the security of conquered territory, to fund the spoils of war, to subdue the enemy by raids and battles, not by sieges, to enrich the public but to keep individuals poor, to attend with the utmost care to military training. And, should this method of providing for expansion not meet with their approval, they should reflect that acquisitions made in any other way spell ruin to a republic and so should bridle all ambition, provide well for the internal administration of their city-state by means of laws and customs, forbid it to make acquisitions, and look only to its defence, for which good preparation should be made. This is how the republics of Germany act, and, because they have taken such steps, they enjoy freedom, and have enjoyed it for quite a spell.

None the less, as I have said elsewhere{49} when discussing the difference between constituting a state with a view to expansion and with a view to its maintaining the status quo, it is impossible for a state to remain for ever in the peaceful enjoyment of its liberties and its narrow confines; for, though it may not molest other states, it will be molested by them, and, when thus molested, there will arise in it the desire, and the need, for conquest. It will find, too, that, when it has no external foe, there will be one at home, for this seems necessarily to happen in all large cities.

That the republics of Germany have been able to live in this way {i.e. to maintain their status quo}, and have lasted a considerable time, is due to the conditions which prevail in that country and are not found elsewhere, conditions without which it is impossible to maintain this type of polity. The part of Germany of which I am speaking was, like France and Spain, subject to the Roman empire; but, when later the Empire declined and the Imperial title was transferred to Germany, its more powerful towns, owing either to the weakness or to the exigences of the emperors, began to free themselves, recompensing the emperor by the payment of a small annual tribute, so that little by little all the towns which had been directly dependent on the emperor and were not subject to any other prince, purchased their freedom in like manner. It also happened that, whilst these towns were in process of recovering their freedom, other communes which were subject to the Duke of Austria, rebelled against him – among them Fribourg, the Swiss communes, and others like them. These communes prospered from the start, and grew little by little to such dimensions that not only did they never fall under the Austrian yoke again, but they became the terror of all their neighbours. I mean the communes now called Switzerland.

Germany, then, is divided among the Swiss, republics called free states, princes and the emperor. And the reason why amidst such diverse forms of constitution wars do not arise, or, if they do arise, do not last long, is the Imperial title, for, though the emperor has no power to enforce his will, yet he has such standing among them that he acts as an arbitrator, and by interposing his authority, mediates between them and at once puts an end to any dissension. The more important and the longest wars that have occurred there, have been those between the Swiss and the Duke of Austria; and, though for many years the Emperor and the Duke of Austria have been identical, this has not enabled the Duke to overcome the boldness of the Swiss, among whose communes there would never have been an entente if they had not been driven to it. Nor has the rest of Germany given the Emperor much help; for, on the one hand, the communes do not want to harm those who desired, like themselves, to be free, and, on the other, the princes are in some cases unable to help on account of their poverty, and in others do not care to help, since they envy the Imperial power.

These communities, therefore, are able to live, content with their small dominions, since with respect to the Imperial authority they have no cause to desire more. Within their walls they live united because in the offing there is an enemy who, should there be internal disorder, would take the opportunity to subjugate them. Were conditions in Germany other than these, they would have to seek expansion and disrupt their present tranquillity. And, since elsewhere such conditions are not present, other states cannot adopt this type of polity, but must needs expand either by means of confederations or in the way the Romans did. To adopt any other policy is to seek not life but death and ruin; since conquests are harmful in a thousand ways and for many reasons. For it is easy to acquire dominion but not at the same time military strength, and yet it must needs be that those who acquire dominion and not at the same time military strength are ruined. Nor can one who has been impoverished by wars acquire forces even if he be victorious, because he spends on them more than he gets from what he has acquired. This is what the Venetians and the Florentines did, and, when the one held Lombardy and the other Tuscany, they were both much weaker than when the one was content with the sea and the other with boundaries six miles long.

The trouble in all such cases is that with the will to acquire there does not go the wisdom to adopt the right method. This is the more blameworthy in that today there is less excuse for it; for the way the Romans behaved is there for all to see, and their example can be followed, whereas the Romans had no example before them, and had to use their own intelligence in order to discover what to do.

In addition to this, conquests sometimes do no small harm even to a well- ordered republic when the province or city it has acquired is given to luxurious habits which can be taken up by those who have intercourse with it; as happened first to Rome when she acquired Capua, and then to Hannibal. Indeed, had Capua been so remote from Rome as to have had no remedy at hand for the mistake the soldiers made, or had Rome then been in any way corrupt, the acquisition of Capua would undoubtedly have been the end of the Roman republic. Titus Livy bears witness to this when he says: ‘Capua was by no means good for military discipline, for it afforded all manner of opportunities for indulgence which obliterated the memory of their fatherland in the debilitated minds of the troops.’ In this way cities and provinces avenge themselves on their conquerors without either battle or bloodshed, for, when the latter have become imbued with their deplorable habits, they are liable to be beaten by anyone who attacks them. This could not be put better than it is by Juvenal in his Satires, where, in dealing with this question, he says that the acquiring of foreign lands familiarized the minds of the Romans with foreign customs, so that, in place of frugality and its other high virtues, ‘gluttony and self-indulgence took possession of it and avenged the world it had conquered’.

If, then, the acquisition of territory did so much harm to the Romans at a time when their conduct was conspicuous for prudence and virtue, what effect will it have upon states whose conduct is very far removed from this? Upon states which, in addition to the other mistakes they make, of which enough has been said above, in their wars use either mercenary or auxiliary troops? From which there results harm of diverse kinds which will be mentioned in the next chapter.

Book Two, Discourse 20. On the Dangers which accrue to the Prince or the Republic that employs Auxiliary or Mercenary Troops

If I had not in another of my works50 discoursed at length on the futility of mercenary and auxiliary troops and on the advantage of one’s own, I should make this discourse of greater length than I shall do; but having spoken at length elsewhere, I shall here be brief. Yet I cannot well omit to mention an important example which I have found in Titus Livy concerning auxiliary troops, where by ‘auxiliary troops’ I mean those that a prince or a republic sends to help you under commanders appointed and paid by that prince or that republic.

Coming then to Livy’s evidence, I would point out that, after the Romans in two different places had routed two Samnite armies with the armies which they had sent to help the Capuans, and had thus freed the Capuans from the war the Samnites had been waging against them, they decided to return to Rome. But lest the Capuans, when deprived of their help, should again fall a prey to the Samnites, they left two legions in the neighbourhood of Capua to defend them. These legions began to enjoy an idleness which was bad for them; so much so that, though it would mean being false to their fatherland and to the respect they owed the senate, they thought of taking up arms and making themselves lords of the country which by their valour they had defended, for it seemed to them that the inhabitants were unworthy to possess good things which they knew not how to protect. When this became known it was stopped by the Romans and matters were put right, as we shall explain at length when we come to speak of conspiracies.

I repeat, then, that of all kinds of soldiers auxiliaries are the most hurtful, for over them the prince or the republic who accepts their aid, has no authority at all: the only person who has authority over them is the person who has sent them. For auxiliary troops are, as I have said, troops sent to you by a ruler under their own commanders, with their own standards, and in his pay, as was the army which the Romans sent to Capua. Such soldiers, when they have won, often prey on those who have commissioned them in the same way as they prey on those against whom they have been commissioned to fight, moved thereunto either by the malignity of the prince who sends them, or by their own ambition. Though the Romans had no intention of breaking the alliance and agreement they had made with the Capuans, yet so easy did the conquest of Capua seem to these soldiers that they were readily induced to consider depriving the Capuans of their lands and of their independence.

Of this numerous examples might be given, but I shall be content with this one and with that afforded by Rhegium, which was robbed of its independent life and of its territory by a legion which the Romans had sent to guard it. A prince or a republic, therefore, ought first to adopt any course rather than bring into the state for its defence auxiliary forces, when it means that they will be entirely dependent on them; for any treaty or convention, however hard, that they can make with any enemy will be light as compared with such an alternative. Those who study closely the past and discuss the present will find that for each case that has led to good results there are any number that turned out to be mistakes. Nor can an ambitious prince or republic have a better chance of getting hold of a city or a province than to be asked to send his armies there to protect it. Hence he who is so ambitious as to invoke such help, not merely to defend himself but to attack others, is seeking to acquire what he cannot keep, for by what he has used to get it, it can easily be taken away. Yet so great is man’s ambition that, in striving to slake his present desire, he gives no thought to the evils that in a short time will follow in its wake. Nor is he stirred by the lessons of the past, as I have shown in regard to this and to other matters; for, if he were moved by them, he would see that the greater the liberality he displays towards his neighbours, and the more averse he is to seizing their lands, the more ready they will be to throw themselves into his lap; as will be shown below from what happened in the case of the Capuans.

Book Two, Discourse 21. The First Praetor the Romans sent out was to Capua, Four Hundred Years after they had first begun to make War

How much the methods used by the Romans in acquiring territory differed from those at present used to extend the dominion of a state, has been sufficiently explained in a previous discourse, and also how the Romans let the towns which they did not destroy, live under their own laws, even in the case of those which did not become their allies, but, when they surrendered, were made subjects; for in such a case the only token of the imperium exercised by the Roman people was the imposing of certain conditions, the which being observed, they allowed them to retain their own form of government and their prestige. These methods we know were kept up until they had gone beyond Italy, and begun to reduce kingdoms and states to provinces.

Of this the best example is that of the first praetor the Romans ever sent to a place {outside Rome}, namely, to Capua, for it was not ambition that induced them to send him, but because the Capuans had asked for one, since they were at loggerheads with one another and thought it necessary to have a Roman citizen in their city who should put matters right and reunite them. Moved by this example the people of Antium, when in like case, were constrained to ask that a prefect should be sent to them. Apropos of which incident and of this new way of exercising authority, Titus Livy says that ‘not only the arms of the Romans, but Roman law began now to prevail’.

We see, therefore, how much this procedure contributed to the increase of Rome’s power. For cities, especially those accustomed to freedom or to being ruled by a native of the place, rest more tranquil and content under a government they do not see, though it may bear on them somewhat hardly, than under a government with which they are brought into daily contact and which thus reminds them daily of their servitude. There is also a further advantage gained by the ruler. It is this. Since the judges and magistrates who exercise civil and criminal jurisdiction over the citizens are not his ministers, their judgements cannot cause difficulty or bring discredit on the ruler, so that many grounds for hating and calumniating him are thus avoided.

In addition to other examples one might adduce from antiquity to prove the truth of this, there has recently occurred one in Italy. For Genoa, as everybody knows, has more than once been occupied by the French, and in all cases except the present one the king sent a French governor to rule it in his name. But on the present occasion, not by choice but because he could not help it, the king let the city govern itself, and the governor appointed was a Genoese. Nor can it be doubted that, should anyone inquire as to which of these two methods brought greater security to the king and to the king’s authority there, or greater contentment to the people, he would certainly favour the last method.

Besides which, men are more inclined to throw themselves on your lap the more averse you appear to be to have them there; and for their liberties fear less, the more humane and the more easy-going is your treatment of them. It was the easy-going ways and the generosity of the Romans that made the Capuans hasten to call in a Roman praetor; whereas had the Romans shown the least desire to send one there, they would at once have become suspicious and kept clear of them.

But what need is there to go to Capua and Rome for instances of this when they are to hand in Florence and Tuscany? Everyone knows how long it is since the city of Pistoia came of her own accord under the dominion of Florence. Everybody is also aware what hostility there has been between the Florentines and the Pisans, the Lucchesi and the Siennese. The diverse attitude here adopted did not proceed from the small value the Pistoians set on their liberty as compared with the others, nor from their thinking less of themselves than the others did; but from the Florentines having always treated the Pistoians as brothers, and the others as enemies. It was this that made the Pistoians so quick and so willing to accept Florentine suzerainty, and that made, and still makes, the others exert all their efforts not to come to this. Had the Florentines, whether by means of confederations or by helping them, been easy-going with their neighbours instead of treating them roughly, they would unquestionably be the lords of Tuscany today. I do not mean to say that armed forces should not be used, but that they should be used only as a last resort, when other means prove inadequate.

Book Two, Discourse 22. How frequently Erroneous are the Views Men adopt in regard to Matters of Moment

How frequently men form false opinions has been observed and is still observed by those who happen to be witnesses of their decisions, the which, unless made by men of first-class ability, are very often the reverse of being sound. And because in corrupt republics, especially in untroubled times, men of first-class ability are ousted by the envy and ambitious scheming of others, men fall back on what by a common error is judged to be good, or else by those who are seeking popularity rather than the common good. Such mistakes are discovered afterwards when things go wrong, and recourse is then had of necessity to those who in peaceful times had been, as it were, forgotten, as in its proper place in this connection we shall endeavour to show. There sometimes occur also events about which men who have had no great experience of affairs, are easily mistaken, since such happenings have plausible features which make men believe that the outcome in such a case will be what they have persuaded themselves it will be. These remarks are made with reference to what Numicius, the praetor, persuaded the Latins to do after they had been beaten by the Romans, and to what many believed a few years ago when Francis I, king of France, set out to acquire Milan, which the Swiss were defending.

I would point out, then, that, after the death of Louis XII, Francis of Angoulême succeeded to the crown of France and was anxious to recover the Duchy of Milan, which, a few years before, had been occupied by the Swiss, supported by Pope Julius II. To facilitate his attack, he desired to find help in Italy, so, besides the Venetians whom Louis had won over, he approached the Florentines and Pope Leo X, under the impression that his task would be easier if he could first win them over, since the King of Spain’s troops were in Lombardy and other forces belonging to the Emperor were in Verona. Pope Leo declined to accede to the king’s wish, but was persuaded by his advisers – so it was said – to remain neutral, for they pointed out that by adopting this course he would be certain to emerge victorious, for it did not suit the Church to have as powers in Italy either the king or the Swiss; but, being anxious to restore Italy to its former freedom, it was essential to free it from servitude to either. And since it was impossible to overcome both of them, either singly or both together, the best course was to let one of them overcome the other, and then for the Church with her allies to fall on the victor. Nor could there be a better opportunity than the present, since both armies were in the field, and the Pope had his forces in readiness and could send them to the confines of Lombardy, near to both the armies, under the pretext of protecting his own territory, where they could remain until the battle took place. This might reasonably be expected to be sanguinary on both sides, since both armies were good ones,(a) and hence should leave the victor so weak that it would be easy for the Pope to attack and break him, which would be a glorious thing since it would leave him master of Lombardy and the arbiter of all Italy.

How false this opinion was is seen by the event; for, when the Swiss were overcome after a long fight, the forces of the Pope and of the king of Spain did not dare to attack the victor, but made ready for flight, and even this would not have helped them, had it not been that the king, for humanity’s sake or because indifferent, did not look to a second victory, but was content to make peace with the Church.

Though, when viewed from a distance, there were grounds which made the view here adopted seem sound, it was in fact utterly false. For it rarely happens that a victor loses very many of his troops; since they are killed in battle, not in flight, and in the ardour of the combat when men are face to face, but few get killed, especially if the battle lasts but for a short time, as usually it does. While even if it lasts long, and many of the victor’s men get killed, the repute gained by the victory and the terror he now inspires, much more than compensates for the loss suffered by the death of his men. Hence anyone who sets out to attack an army, which in his opinion has been weakened by a fight, will find himself mistaken unless his own army be such that at any time, even before the victory, he could afford to fight. In that case he might win or he might lose, according to his luck and to his ‘virtue’; but an army which has just fought and gained a victory would be at an advantage rather than at a disadvantage in his regard.

This is put beyond question by the experience the Latins underwent and the mistake the praetor, Numicius, made, and by what happened to those who believed him. For when the Romans had defeated the Latins, Numicius went about shouting all over Latium that now was the time to attack the Romans since they were weakened by the battle they had fought with them, and all they had gained was a nominal victory, which in reality was a defeat owing to the losses they had suffered, so that any small force which should make a fresh attack on them, would finish them off. So the peoples who believed him, raised a fresh army, and were routed forthwith, wherein they suffered a loss which is always suffered by those who lend ear to such advice.

Book Two, Discourse 23. When Events required that the Romans should pass Judgement on Subject Peoples they avoided a Middle Course (51)

‘The state of things in Latium was now such that it could stand neither peace nor war.’ The most unhappy of all unhappy positions is that of a prince or of a republic which is reduced to such extremities that it can neither accept peace nor sustain war. Such a position arises when the conditions of peace are too severe, and war means that either they become the prey of their allies or that they remain a prey to their enemies. All such extremities are brought about by bad counsels and bad decisions, made without first estimating carefully the forces at one’s disposal, as has been said above. For the republic or the prince who measures his forces well, will with difficulty be brought to the pass to which the Latins were led. For they came to terms with the Romans when they ought not to have done so, and declared war on them when they ought not to have declared war; and by so doing created a situation in which the enmity and the friendship of the Romans was from their point of view equally harmful. The Latins, therefore, were conquered and brought into complete subjection, first by Manlius Torquatus and then by Camillus, who, having forced them to surrender unconditionally, and having put garrisons in all the Latin towns and everywhere taken hostages, returned to Rome and announced to the senate that all Latium was in the hands of the Roman people.

Since what Camillus said is important and deserves the attention of all rulers who would emulate his example should occasion arise, I shall here quote the words which Livy puts into the mouth of Camillus, for they bear witness to the way in which the Romans extended their dominions, and also to the fact that in judgements pronounced by their government they always avoided a middle course, and preferred the extremes. For government consists in nothing else but so controlling subjects that they shall neither be able to, nor have cause to, do you harm; which may be done either by making quite sure of them by depriving them of all means of doing you harm, or by treating them so well that it would be unreasonable for them to desire a change of fortune. All this is made quite clear, first by Camillus’s statement and then by the judgement the senate came to in its regard. These are Livy’s words: ‘The immortal gods have vouchsafed to you the power to decide whether Latium is to be or not to be. Its future lies in your hands. In so far as the Latins are concerned, it rests with you to make a peace which shall be perpetual, either by punishing them cruelly or by pardoning them. Do you think it advisable to be brutal towards those who have surrendered and been conquered? If so, you can wipe out the whole of Latium. Do you want, after the manner of our forefathers, to augment the Roman state by admitting the conquered to citizenship? The material whereby to increase it to its great glorification lies ready to hand. Of a surety that empire is most secure in which obedience is conjoined with happiness. It behoves you then to subjugate them while their minds are so stunned that they know not what to expect, either by punishing them or by becoming their benefactor.’ Having heard this proposal, the senate came to a decision which followed the lines the consul had laid down, which was that, after duly considering one by one each town, they should either treat all citizens of importance generously or wipe them out; by conferring on those they treated generously exemptions and privileges, granting them citizenship, and using every endeavour to make them loyal; and by demolishing the towns of the others, sending colonies there, and taking the inhabitants back to Rome or so dispersing them that they could no longer do harm either by appeal to arms or by their machinations. Nor did they ever adopt a middle course as I have said, of importance, towards men and other rulers should imitate them in this. This is what the Florentines should have done when in 1502 Arezzo and the whole of the Val di Chiana revolted. If they had done this, they would have made their dominion secure, Florence would have become a great city, and they would have acquired that lebensrauma which they lacked. But they adopted that middle course, which is the most prejudicial that men can take. Some of the Aretines they banished, some they condemned {to death}, and from all they took away the honours and positions sanctioned by the ancient customs of that city. But the city they left intact. And if in their discussions any citizen advised that Arezzo be destroyed, the reply given by those who seemed to be more wise was that to destroy it would do little credit to the republic, since it would appear that Florence had not the forceto hold it. Such arguments are based on appearances, not on the truth. For on this showing no parricide or criminal or notorious person would be put to death for fear lest, by so doing, a ruler should show that he had not the power to curb a particular individual. Those who are of this opinion do not see that, whenever men individually or a whole city offends against a state, its ruler has, both as an example to others and for his own security, no alternative but to wipe them out. Honour consists here in being able, and knowing how, to castigate it, not in being able to hold it, thereby incurring a thousand risks. For the ruler who does not punish an offender in such a way that he cannot offend again, is deemed either an ignoramus or a coward.

The policy of the Romans in this matter is again confirmed, if there be need to confirm it, by the judgement they passed on the Privernates. In what Livy says of it two things should be noted: first, as has been said above, that subject peoples should either be generously treated or be wiped out; secondly, how helpful a generous disposition may be, and how helpful it is to tell the truth when one is called on to give evidence before prudent men. The Roman senate had met to pronounce judgement on the Privernates, who had rebelled, but had subsequently been forced to return to the Roman obedience. The people of Privernum had sent many of their citizens to ask the senate to pardon them. When they came before the senate, one of them was asked by a senator: ‘What punishment he thought the Privernates deserved?’ To which the man from Privernum replied: ‘That which men deserve who think themselves worthy of freedom.’ To which the consul answered: ‘Supposing that we remit the penalty, what kind of peace can we expect to have with you?’ His answer was: ‘If you are good to us, a loyal perpetual peace; if you treat us badly, not a long one.’ Though many dissented, the wiser among the senators then said: ‘We have been listening to those who are both men and free men; nor do I think it possible for any people or any man to remain longer than he can help in a situation which he deplores. Peace treaties can be relied upon when they are made voluntarily. Loyalty is not to be expected from those who are ready to become slaves.’ In consequence of this speech, it was decreed that the Privernates should become Roman citizens, and should share in the privileges and honours which citizenship conferred. ‘Those whose minds are set on liberty, and nothing but liberty’, it was said, ‘are worthy to be made true Romans.’

Such was the pleasure which this straightforward and generous answer gave to generous minds. To have given any other would have been deceitful and base. Those who believe that men are not like this, especially when they have been accustomed either to being free men or to looking on themselves as free men, are mistaken, and decisions based on this mistake are neither good for those that make them, nor satisfactory to others. Hence come frequently rebellions and the ruin of states.

But to return to our main topic. From the two judgements passed on these Latin peoples, I conclude that, when sentence has to be passed on cities which are powerful and accustomed to a life of freedom, either they should be eliminated or they should be caressed. Any other decision is futile. At all costs should the middle course be avoided; for it is hurtful, as it was to the Samnites when they caught the Romans in the Caudine Forks and were unwilling to follow the advice of the old man who told them either to treat the Romans as honourable men and to set them free, or to kill the lot. For they took the middle course, disarmed them, marched them under the yoke, and then set them free, burning with shame and indignation. With the result that, later on, they learned to their cost that the old man’s advice was sound and their own decision harmful, as will be shown more at length in its proper place.

Book Two, Discourses 24–27: Mistakes Often Made in Connection with War

Book Two, Discourse 24. Fortresses in General are much more Harmful than Useful

To the wiseacres of our times it may perhaps seem a foolish thing that when the Romans wanted to ensure the loyalty of the people of Latium and the city of Privernum it did not occur to them to build any sort of fortress to curb them and keep them loyal, especially as in Florence it is an accepted principle, so our wiseacres say, that Pisa and other such cities should be held by means of fortresses. Had the Romans been of their calibre, it would undoubtedly have occurred to them to build fortresses, but since their virtue, judgement, and power was of different order they did not do so. So long as Rome enjoyed freedom and was loyal to her institutions and to her efficienta constitution she never held either cities or provinces by means of fortresses save where they were already built. In view, then, of the way the Romans acted in this matter and of the way rulersb act today, it seems to me worth while considering whether it is good to build fortresses and whether they are harmful or useful to those who build them.

It must be borne in mind, then, that fortresses are constructed as a defence either against enemies or against subjects. In the first case they are unnecessary, and in the second case harmful. Let us begin by explaining why in the second case they are harmful. I maintain that when a prince or a republic is afraid of its subjects and fears they may rebel, the root cause of this fear must lie in the hatred which such subjects have for their rulers: a hatred which is due to their misbehaviour; and a misbehaviour which is due to their fancying they can hold them by force, or to their foolish way of governing them. And one of the things that makes rulers believe in force is the fact that they have fortresses to fall back on. For when mismanagement gives rise to hatred it is mainly due to a prince or a republic having fortresses; and, when this is the case, fortresses are far more harmful than useful. For, in the first place, they make you more foolhardy and violent in dealing with your subjects, as has been said. Next, they do not afford you internally that security you fancy they do. For no force and no violence is of the least use in controlling your people except under one of two conditions: either you have a good army which you can put in the field, as the Romans had; or your people are so exhausted, spent, disorganized and divided, that they cannot unite to do you hurt. For if you reduce them to poverty, ‘though despoiled, they still have arms’, and, if you disarm them, ‘their fury will provide them with arms’. If you kill their leaders and suppress all other signs of insurrection, like the heads of the Hydra other leaders will arise. If you erect fortresses, they are useful in time of peace because they give you more courage in ill-treating your subjects, but in time of war they are quite useless, for they will be attacked both by your enemies and by your subjects, and against both it is impossible for them to stand. And if there ever was a time when they were useless, it is now on account of artillery, for against its fire it is impossible to defend such small places where there are no embankments behind which men can retire, as we have shown above.

In discussing this question I am going to particularize. Do you, my prince, with your fortresses want to keep a firm hand on the people in your city? Do you, be you a prince or a republic, want to tighten your grip on a city you have taken during a war? I tell you, if you be a prince, that as a means of controlling your citizens, nothing can be more futile than a fortress for the reasons I have given: it makes you quicker to use, and less careful in using, harsh measures, and by such measures you make them long for your downfall, and they become so furious that, for this very reason, your fortress will afford you no protection. So obvious is this, that a wise and good prince never constructs fortresses if he wants to remain good and to avoid providing his sons with a reason for wanting to become bad, for he would have them rely not on fortresses, but on their subjects’ goodwill.

And if Count Francesco Sforza, having become Duke of Milan, was reputed a wise man, and yet built a fortress in Milan, I maintain that in this he was not wise, and the result has proved that this fortress did harm to his heirs instead of affording them security. For with a fortress they thought they were safe and could oppress their citizens and subjects, so lost no opportunity of doing them violence; with the result that they came to be detested beyond all measure, and lost their state to the first enemy who attacked them. Nor was this fortress any protection or of any service to them in time of war, while in time of peace it did them much harm, since, if they had not had it, yet had been so unwise as to treat their citizens harshly, they would have realized their danger sooner and would have withdrawn from it. In which case they would have been able to put up a more spirited resistance to the French attack with loyal subjects but without a fortress than with a fortress and disloyal subjects.

In no way, then, do fortresses help you, for you will lose them either through the treachery of their keepers, or by some violent attack, or, by their being starved out. While, if you do want them to help you, and to enable you to recover a state you have lost, in which there remains to you only a fortress, you must have an army with which to attack those who have driven you out, and when you have such an army, you will recover your state anyhow, even if there be no fortress there; and this the more easily when your men are friendly and have not been badly treated owing to the arrogance a fortress instils. Experience then shows that this Milanese fortress was not the least use either to the Sforzas or to the French when with either of them things went wrong. On the contrary, to both it brought disaster and ruin in that it prevented them from considering whether there might not be a more honest way of maintaining their position.

Guidobaldo, Duke of Urbino, the son of Frederick, who was highly esteemed in his day as an army commander, was expelled from his state by Caesar Borgia, the son of Pope Alexander VI. When later, owing to an accident, he got back, he had all the fortresses in that district razed to the ground since he thought them mischievous. For with respect to his people who were fond of him, he did not need fortresses and, so far as his enemies were concerned, he realized he could not protect the fortresses, since he would require to have an army in the field to defend them. So he resolved to get rid of them.

Pope Julius, when he had expelled the Bentivogli from Bologna, erected a fortress in that city, and afterwards caused its inhabitants to be cruelly oppressed by one of his governors so that they rebelled; and straightaway he lost the fortress, which thus did not help him, but harmed him in as much as, had he acted otherwise, it would have helped him.

Niccolò da Castello, father of the Vitelli, on returning to his country from which he had been exiled, at once pulled down two fortresses which had been built there by Pope Sixtus IV, for he held that it was not the fortress, but the affection of his people which would preserve his state for him.

But of all such cases the most recent and the most noteworthy in every way as illustrating the futility of building fortresses and the utility of demolishing them, is what happened at Genoa not long ago. Everybody knows that in 1507 Genoa rebelled against Louis XII, King of France, who came in person with all his forces to reconquer it, and that, on recovering it, he constructed a fortress stronger than any at present known, since, situated on the point of a hill which juts into the sea, called by the Genoese Codefà, it was, owing to its position and to a number of other circumstances, impregnable, and commanded the port and a large part of the city of Genoa. It none the less came about that in 1512, when the French were driven from Italy, Genoa rebelled, despite the fortress; Ottaviano Fregoso seized the government; and, after a siege of sixteen months in which he used all possible devices, he starved the fortress out. Everyone then expected, and many advised, that it should be kept as a refuge in case of emergency, but Fregoso, like a prudent man, destroyed it, for he recognized that it is not fortresses but the wills of men that keep rulers in power. Thus, instead of relying on a fortress, he relied on virtue and sound sense, and so held his position and holds it still. And, whereas to change the government of Genoa, a thousand infantry used to suffice, its adversaries have since attacked it with ten thousand and have done it no harm. Hence one sees that dismantling a fortress did not hurt Ottaviano, and erecting one did not help the king. For so long as he could come with an army into Italy, he could recover Genoa without having a fortress there; but, when he could not come into Italy with an army, he could not hold Genoa, though he had the fortress. Thus, constructing the fortress was expensive to the king, and losing it shameful; whereas to Ottaviano the reconquering of the fortress brought glory and the demolishing of it advantage.

We come now to republics which erect fortresses not in their native land but in towns which they have acquired. If the instances already given, of France and of Genoa, do not suffice to show the fallacy involved, it should be enough if I cite those of Florence and Pisa. The Florentines erected fortresses to hold the city of Pisa, not considering that, since the Pisans had always been hostile to Florentine power, had enjoyed freedom and regarded rebellion as a means to freedom, it was necessary, if they were to retain Pisa, to adopt the Roman method, i.e. either to make it an ally or to destroy it. For the virtue of the fortresses became evident on the arrival of King Charles, to whom they surrendered owing either to the bad faith of their custodians or for fear of worse to come. Whereas if there had been no fortresses, the Florentines would not have based on them their power to hold Pisa; nor would the king have been able by means of them to deprive the Florentines of that city; for the means they had taken thus far might perchance have enabled them to keep it, and unquestionably would not have proved more disastrous than the fortresses.

I conclude, therefore, that for the purpose of holding one’s own country fortresses are hurtful, and that for the purpose of holding acquired towns they are futile. The authority of the Romans is enough for me here, for round the towns they wanted to hold by force they did not build walls but pulled them down. And, if against this my view anyone should cite in ancient times the case of Tarentum, and in modern times Brescia, both of which places were regained, thanks to fortresses, after their subjects had revolted, I answer thus. To recover Tarentum Fabius Maximus at the beginning of his year of office, was sent with a whole army, which would have sufficed for its recovery even if there had been no fortress there; and though Fabius made use of it, if it had not been there he would have adopted other means which would have produced the same effect. What use there is in a fortress I do not know, if, to recover a town, one needs a consular army and a Fabius Maximus to command it. Moreover, that the Romans would have recovered it in any case, is seen from the example of Capua, where there was no fortress, but which the Romans retook by the valour of the army.

But let us turn to Brescia. I maintain that what happened in that rebellion is a rare occurrence. Rarely when a town rebels does it happen that the fortress remains in your hands and that you have a large army in the neighbourhood, as the French then had. For Monsieur de Foix, the king’s commander, had an army at Bologna, and when he heard that Brescia was lost, he went without delay to deal with the revolt, in three days reached Brescia, and with assistance from the fortress recovered the town. Here again, then, for the fortress at Brescia to be of any use, it needed a Monsieur de Foix and a French army to relieve it after three days march. The case of Brescia, therefore, is not enough to refute examples of the opposite kind; for in wars recently waged, numbers of fortresses have been taken and retaken with the same fortune that has attended the taking and retaking of open country, not only in Lombardy, but in the Romagna, in the kingdom of Naples, and in every part of Italy.

As to building fortresses for defence against external foes, I maintain that they are unnecessary where peoples or kingdoms have good armies and that to those who have no such armies they are useless; for good armies without fortresses suffice for defence, and fortresses without good armies are no defence. This is borne out by the experience of men of high repute as rulers and in other matters, for instance, the Romans and the Spartans; for if the Romans did not build fortresses, the Spartans not only abstained from doing this, but did not permit their cities to have walls, because they chose to rely for defence on the virtue of the individual, and wanted no other. Hence, when a Spartan was asked by an Athenian whether the walls of Athens did not look fine, he answered: ‘Quite! provided it be ladies who live there.’

The ruler, then, who has good armies, may sometimes find it useful, though not essential, to have fortresses on the coast and on the frontiers of his domains to hold off the attack of an enemy till he gets properly going. But, if he has not a good army, to have fortresses within his state or on its frontiers is either harmful or useless: harmful because he so easily loses them and, when lost, they make war on him; or, if they should chance to be so strong that the enemy cannot capture them, they get left behind by the hostile army and so come to be useless. For, when good armies do not meet with very strong opposition, on entering a country they pay no attention to cities and fortresses, which they may leave behind them. We see this in ancient history just as we have seen it done by Francesco Maria, who in quite recent times, when on his way to attack Urbino, left behind him ten of the enemy’s cities, without bothering about them.

The ruler, then, who can muster a good army, can do without fortresses, and the ruler who has not a good army had better not build them. The best thing he can do is to fortify the city where he dwells, to keep it provisioned and its inhabitants well disposed, so as to hold off an enemy’s attack till he can either come to terms or get outside help to relieve him. All other plans are expensive in time of peace and useless in time of war. In view, then, of all I have said, it will be seen that, as the Romans were wise in their other institutions, so, too, were they prudent when they decided in the case of the Latins and the Privernates to dispense with fortresses and took more virtuous and wiser means of securing their loyalty.

Book Two, Discourse 25. To attack a Divided City in the Hope that its Divisions will facilitate the Conquest of it is Bad Policy

There was so much discord between the plebs and the nobility in the Roman republic that the Veientes, in conjunction with the Etruscans, thought this disunion would enable them to destroy the power of Rome. Having, therefore, formed an army and invaded Roman territory, the senate sent Gaius Manlius and Marcus Fabius to engage them. When the army they were leading drew near to the army of the Veientes, the latter kept on attacking and vilifying the Roman name with insults and abuse. And so great was their rashness and insolence that the Romans became united instead of disunited, and, when it came to a fight, broke and defeated the enemy. Thus one sees, as we have said above, how mistaken men are when in coming to decisions they rely on discord, and how often, when they think they have a sure thing they lose. The Veientes thought that if they attacked the Romans, when disunited, they would overcome them; but their attack caused the Romans to unite and brought about their own ruin. For discord in a republic is usually due to idleness and peace, and unity to fear and to war. Had the Veientes been wise, then, the more disunited they found the Romans to be, the more studiously should they have refrained from going to war with them, and have striven to get the better of them by the artifices men use in time of peace.

The way to set about this is to win the confidence of the city which is disunited; and, so long as they do not come to blows, to act as arbitrator between the parties, and, when they do come to blows, to give tardy support to the weaker party, both with a view to keeping them at it and wearing them out; and, again, because stronger measures would leave no room for any to doubt that you were out to subjugate them and make yourself their ruler. When this scheme is well carried out, it will happen, as always, that the end you have in view will be attained. The city of Pistoia, as I have said in another discourse and apropos of another topic, was acquired by the republic of Florence by just such an artifice; for it was divided and the Florentines supported now one, now the other, party and, without making themselves obnoxious to either, led them on until they got sick of their turbulent way of living and in the end came to throw themselves voluntarily into the arms of Florence.

The city of Siena has never changed its form of government with the help of the Florentines except when their help was weak and infrequent; for, when it was frequent and strong, its effect was to make that city united in defence of the government in power. I wish to add to the above-mentioned examples a further example. Filippo Visconti, Duke of Milan, several times made war on the Florentines, relying on their disunion, and in all cases came out the loser, so that when he was bewailing these attacks, he used to say that the follies of the Florentines had involved him in an expenditure of two millions in gold to no purpose.

It remained, then, that the Veientes and the Tuscans were mistaken on this point, as was said above, so that in the end there came a battle when the Romans conquered them. And in like manner will others find themselves mistaken, should they imagine that by such means and in such circumstances they can bring a people into subjection.

Book Two, Discourse 26. Scorn and Abuse arouse Hatred against those who indulge in them without bringing them any Advantage

I hold it to be a sign of great prudence in men to refrain alike from threats and from the use of insulting language, for neither of these things deprives the enemy of his power, but the first puts him more on his guard, while the other intensifies his hatred of you and makes him more industrious in devising means to harm you. This is seen in the case of the Veientes, whom we were discussing in the previous chapter. Besides the injury done by the war, they abused the Romans by word of mouth, a thing which every sensible general should prevent his soldiers from doing, for such language does but exasperate the enemy and move him to vengeance, nor, as has been said, does it in any way interfere with his attack: so that in fact they are weapons which turn against you.

Of this a notable instance occurred in Asia. When Cobades, the Persian commander, had been besieging Amida for a considerable time, he grew weary of the tiresome business and decided to withdraw. While he was striking camp the townsmen, exhilarated by their victory, all climbed on the walls and used every sort of abuse, calumniating and accusing and upbraiding the enemy for his cowardice and poltroonery. This so annoyed Cobades that he changed his mind, and, indignant at the injustice, returned to the siege and in a few days had taken and sacked the city.

The same thing happened to the Veientes, who, as I have said, were not content to make war on the Romans, but also spoke of them contemptuously, going up to the stockade surrounding their camp and shouting abuse at them. This annoyed the troops much more than the fighting did; so that, whereas they had at first fought unwillingly, they now pressed the consuls to join battle, with the result that the Veientes, like those mentioned above, were punished for their contumacy as they deserved. Good army commanders and good republican rulers should take all appropriate measures to prevent the use of abusive language and taunts, whether in the city or in their army, and whether used one towards another or towards the enemy. For, if used towards the enemy, there ensue the aforesaid inconveniences, and still worse inconveniences if used one towards the other, unless precautions be taken, as they always have been by prudent men.

When the Roman legions, left in Capua, conspired against the Capuans, as will be narrated in due course, and in connection with this conspiracy a mutiny arose, subsequently quelled by Valerius Corvinus, among other points in the convention he drew up, it prescribed the severest penalties on those who should reproach any of the troops for having taken part in the mutiny.

Tiberius Gracchus, who, during the war with Hannibal, had been put in command of a certain number of slaves, whom, owing to the shortage of men, the Romans had armed, made a special point of the capital punishment he prescribed for anyone who should reproach any slave with his servitude.

We see, then, how harmful the Romans thought it to calumniate others or to reproach them for a shameful deed, as has been said, for than this there is nothing that inflames the mind more, or arouses greater indignation, whether the taunt be true or be said in jest, ‘For smart sayings, when they border on the truth, leave a bitter taste behind them.’

Book Two, Discourse 27. Prudent Princes and Republics should be content with Victory, for, when they are not content with it, they usually lose

Speaking to the disparagement of an enemy is usually due to the arrogance aroused in you by victory or by the false hope of victory. False hopes of this kind not only cause men to make mistakes in what they say, but also in what they do. For, when such hopes enter men’s breasts they cause them to dispense with caution, and often to miss the chance of obtaining a sure thing in the hope, but by no means the certainty, of improving on it. This matter is worth considering, since very often men make mistakes in regard to it, detrimental to their country. Wherefore, since it cannot be so clearly proved by an appeal to reason, I shall cite examples both ancient and modern in support of it.

After routing the Romans at Cannae, Hannibal sent messengers to Carthage to announce his victory, and to ask for reinforcements and supplies. During the discussion in the senate as to what should be done, Hanno, an old and prudent Carthaginian citizen, urged that it would be wise to use the victory as a lever for securing peace with the Romans which they should be able to obtain with honour since they had beaten them, instead of waiting till their own defeat caused them to make it. The aim of the Carthaginians should be to make it clear to the Romans that to have fought with them sufficed. Having won, they should not now go and spoil their chances in the hope of improving on them. This course was not adopted by the Carthaginian senate, though it recognized later the wisdom of it when the opportunity had been lost.

When Alexander the Great had conquered the whole of the East, the republic of Tyre, which in those days ranked high and was powerful, since, like Venice, it was on the coast, recognized Alexander’s greatness, and so sent ambassadors to say that they were ready to become his loyal subjects and to obey his behests, but that they were not prepared to receive either him or his troops in their town. Alexander was indignant that a city should want to shut in his face a door that the whole world had thrown open, declined to accept their conditions, and set out to besiege the city. But this sea-girt and fortunate town was so well stocked with provisions and other supplies needed for its defence, that after four months Alexander saw that it was taking him longer to win glory in the case of this city than it had taken him to acquire many other places, and hence decided to make peace overtures and to concede the point that Tyre had asked. But the men of Tyre, elated with success, not only refused to accept his terms, but killed the envoy who came to arrange matters. Whereupon Alexander, becoming indignant, put such life into the siege that he took and demolished the city, and either killed or made slaves of its inhabitants.

In 1512 a Spanish army invaded the dominions of Florence with a view to restoring the Medici and levying a tax on the city, acting on behalf of fifth columnists who had led them to expect that, once they had crossed the border, they would take up arms in their favour. On entering the plain {of the Arno} they found none of them, and, as they were short of provisions, they made overtures of peace. The people of Florence were too proud to accept them. Hence the loss of Prato, and the ruin of that state.

Rulers of states, when attacked, therefore, cannot make a greater mistake than to refuse to come to terms when the forces attacking them are a good deal stronger than their own, especially if the overtures are made by the enemy: for the terms will never be so hard but that in them some benefit will accrue to those who accept them, so that in a way they will share in the victory. The people of Tyre, for instance, should have been content that Alexander had accepted the conditions which he had at first refused, and the victory thus gained would have been considerable, since with their armed forces they had compelled a great man to condescend to their wishes. It should, in like manner, have sufficed the people of Florence that the Spanish army had yielded to any of their demands instead of fulfilling all their own, for this, too, would have been a considerable victory. For what the Spanish army wanted was to change the form of government in Florence, to put an end to its attachment to France, and to levy tribute. If of these three things the Spaniards had gained the last two, and the people of Florence had gained the first, that is the retention of their form of government, each would have acquired a certain honour and a certain satisfaction; nor would the people have been likely to trouble much about the other two things, so long as their lives were sare. Nay, even had they seen there was a good, and almost certain, chance of a greater victory, they should not have placed themselves wholly at the discretion of fortune and ventured their last stake, which it is never wise to risk unless driven to it.

When Hannibal, who had enjoyed great glory in Italy for sixteen years, left it on being recalled by the Carthaginians to help his own country, he found Hasdrubal and Syphax routed, the kingdom of Numidia lost, and the Carthaginians cooped up within their own walls, destitute of hope except what he and his army should bring. Realizing that his country was reduced to its last stake, he was determined not to risk that till he had tried all other remedies, and so was not ashamed to sue for peace, since he was convinced that, if there was any hope at all for his country, it lay in this and not in war. When peace was refused, he did not decline to fight though bound to lose, since he felt that he could still win, but if he had to lose, he could at least lose gloriously. If, then, Hannibal, who was so full of virtuosity, and had his army still intact, preferred peace to war when he saw that, by losing, his country would be enslaved, what should a man do who has neither the efficiency nor the experience of Hannibal? Yet there are men who make this mistake, in that to their hopes they set no bound, and are ruined because they rely on such hopes and take no account of other things.

Book Two, Discourses 28–33: Rome’s Dealings with Neighbouring States and Cities in Peace and War

Book Two, Discourse 28. How Dangerous it is for a Republic or a Prince not to avenge an Injury done either to the Public or to a Private Person

What is likely to make men indignant with others may easily be learnt from what happened to the Romans when they sent the three Fabii as ambassadors to the Gauls, who were about to attack Tuscany and, in particular, Clusium. The people of Clusium had appealed to Rome for help against the Gauls. Hence the Romans sent the three Fabii as ambassadors to the Gauls to insist in the name of the Roman republic on their abstaining from a war with the Tuscans. When they arrived at their destination the ambassadors, who were better at acting than speaking, found the Gauls and the Tuscans about to join battle, whereupon they were the foremost to enter the fray. It thus came about that when the Gauls became aware of this, their annoyance with the Tuscans was turned against the Romans. And their indignation was intensified when the Gauls having complained to the Roman senate through their ambassadors of this unfairness and demanded that the aforesaid Fabii be handed over to them to compensate for the harm they had done, they were not only not handed over or punished in some other way, but an election was held in which they were made tribunes with consular power. Consequently when the Gauls saw those being honoured who ought to have been punished, they took it as an affront and an indignity offered to themselves, and, inflamed with indignation and anger, marched on Rome and took it, except for the Capitol. A disaster which the Romans brought on themselves through their disregard of justice, for since their ambassadors had offended ‘against the Law of Nations’,52 they should have been punished, instead of being honoured.

This leads one to consider how important it is for every republic and every prince to take account of such offences, not only when an injury is done to a whole people, but also when it affects an individual. For if an individual is grievously offended either by the public or by a private person, and does not receive due satisfaction, he will, if he lives in a republic, seek to avenge himself, even if it lead to the ruin of that republic; and, if he live under a prince and has a spark of manliness, will never rest content till he has in some way or other wreaked vengeance on him even though he see that, in doing so, he will bring disaster on himself.

In verification of this there is no finer or more relevant instance than that of Philip, king of Macedon, the father of Alexander, in whose court there was a handsome and noble young man, Pausanias. With him Attains, one of the chief men in Philip’s entourage, was enamoured, and had on several occasions sought to get him to assent, but found that he had no liking for such things; so, seeing that he could not get what he wanted otherwise, he decided to set a trap for him and to use force. He gave, therefore, a great banquet, which Pausanias and other noble barons attended, and, when they had had their fill of food and wine, he had him seized and bound; then he not only used force in order to gratify his lust, but, to his greater shame, got others to treat him in the same disgusting way. Of this affront Pausanias complained several times to Philip, who, having kept him for a time in expectation of vengeance, not only did not avenge him, but made Attalus governorof a Grecian province. Pausanias, therefore, seeing his enemy honoured instead of being punished, gave full vent to his indignation not only against the perpetrator of the deed, but against Philip who had not avenged it. So, one morning, the day of the solemn wedding of Philip’s daughter, who was being married to Alexander of Epirus, he killed Philip as he was going to the temple for the celebration standing between the two Alexanders, his son and his son-in-law. Of this incident, which is akin to that which happened to the Romans, all who rule should take note, so that they may never esteem any man so lightly as to think that, if injury be added to injury, the injured person will not consider how to vindicate himself, even though it involve him hi all manner of dangers and entail his own downfall.

Book Two, Discourse 29. Fortune blinds Men’s Minds when she does not wish them to obstruct her Designs

If one ponders well the course of human affairs, it will be seen that many events happen and many misfortunes come about, against which the heavens have not been willing that any provision at all should be made. Since this statement holds good in the case of Rome, which was conspicuous alike for virtue, religion and orderly conduct, it is no wonder that the same thing happens yet more often in cities and provinces which are lacking in these respects. There is a well-known passage in which Titus Livy shows at length and with great force the power that heaven exercises over human affairs. He says that, with a view to making the Romans recognize its power, heaven first caused the Fabii to act wrongly when sent as ambassadors to the Gauls, and by means of what they did excited the Gauls to make war on Rome; then ordained that in Rome nothing worthy of the Roman people should be done to meet their attack; for first it brought about that Camillus, who was the only hope they had in those evil days, should be sent as an exile to Ardea; then that, when the Gauls were marching on Rome, they did not appoint a dictator, as they had done many times to meet the attack of the Volsci and other enemies in the neighbourhood. It also caused them to be weak and to take no particular care in calling up troops, who were so slow in taking up arms that they scarce had time to confront the Gauls on the banks of the Allia, which was but ten miles from Rome. There the tribunes set up their camp without their accustomed diligence, since they did not inspect the site beforehand, nor surround it with trenches and stockades, nor take any other precautions, either human or divine; while in preparing for battle they made their ranks thin and weak, and neither troops nor officers behaved as Roman discipline required. No blood was shed during the battle because at the first onslaught the Romans ran away, the greater number going to Veii, and the rest retiring on Rome, where they sought refuge in the Capitol without first going home; whereupon the senate took so little thought for Rome’s defence that, for one thing, they omitted to close the gates; and some of its members fled, while others went with the rest into the Capitol. Granted, in their defence of the Capitol they used some sort of discipline, for they did not pack all the useless people inside, and they got in all the corn they could, so as to be able to stand the siege; while of the useless crowd of old men, women and children, most fled to the country round about, and the rest stayed in Rome at the mercy of the Gauls. So that no one who had read of what was done so often in years gone by and were to read what was now being done, would think they were one and the same people.

Having described all the disorders mentioned above, Titus Livy concludes with the remark: ‘To such an extent does fortune blind the minds of men when she does not want them to oppose the force she is using.’

Nor can anything be more true than the conclusion Livy draws. Hence men who in this life normally either surfer great adversity or enjoy great prosperity, deserve neither praise nor blame; for one usually finds that they have been driven either to ruin or to greatness by the prospect of some great advantage which the heavens have held out, whereby they have been given the chance, or have been deprived of the chance, of being able to act virtuously. Fortune arranges this quite nicely. For, when it wants a man to take the lead in doing great things, it chooses a man of high spirits and great virtue who will seize the occasion it offers him. And in like manner, when it wants a man to bring about a great disaster, it gives, precedence to men who will help to promote it; and, if anyone gets in the way, it either kills him off or deprives him of all power of doing good.

It plainly appears from Livy’s evidence that, in order to make Rome greater and to lead it on to its future greatness, fortune decided it was necessary first to chastize it in a way that will be described at length in the beginning of the next book, but did not want to ruin it altogether. Hence we see that it made an exile of Camillus, but did not cause him to die; that it caused Rome to be taken, but not the Capitol; that it arranged matters so that nothing useful was thought of to help Rome, nor anything overlooked that could help in the defence of the Capitol. It brought it about that, since Rome was to be taken, the greater part of the troops which were routed at Allia, should go on to Veii, thus leaving the city without any men to defend it. But in arranging things thus, it also prepared the way for Rome’s recovery; for since there was a Roman army at Veii, and Camillus was at Ardea, it became possible to make a more vigorous attempt to deliver the fatherland under a general whose career was free from the stain of defeat and whose reputation was untarnished.

In confirmation of this one might adduce further examples from modern times, but I do not think this necessary, so pass them over, since that I have given should be enough to satisfy anybody. I assert once again as a truth to which history as a whole bears witness that men may second their fortune, but cannot oppose it; that they may weave its warp, but cannot break it. Yet they should never give up, because there is always hope, though they know not the end and move towards it along roads which cross one another and as yet are unexplored; and since there is hope, they should not despair, no matter what fortune brings or in what travail they find themselves.

Book Two, Discourse 30. Really Powerful Republics and Princes do not purchase Alliances with Money, but obtain them by means of the Virtue and the Reputation of their Forces

The Romans were being besieged in the Capitol, and, though they expected help from Veii and from Camillus, were in such bad case owing to famine that they came to terms with the Gauls and agreed to pay them so much gold. They were weighing out the gold agreed upon when Camillus arrived with his army; whereupon fortune, says the historian, decided that ‘the Romans should not by purchase save their lives’.

This kind of thing is not only noticeable in this case but characterizes the behaviour of this republic throughout. We never find the Romans purchasing towns, or paying in order to obtain peace. They always acquired both by virtue of their arms. Nor do I think that this has ever happened in the case of any other republic. Among other indications of the power of a strong state one looks to the terms on which it lives with its neighbours. When it is so governed that, to obtain its friendship, its neighbours become its tributaries, it is a sure sign that the state is powerful; but when the said neighbours, though inferior in strength, extract payment from it, it is a sure sign of its weakness.

As one runs through Roman history, one sees how the Massilians, the Aedui, the Rhodians, Hiero of Syracuse, king Eumenes and king Masinissa, who were neighbours with estates bordering on the empire of Rome, were ready to incur expense and pay tribute in order to obtain the friendship of Rome, and in return ask only for her protection. In weak states one finds just the opposite. To begin with, in our own state, Florence, in times past when its reputation stood at its highest, there was no lord in the Romagna who did not receive payment from it. It also made grants to the Perugians, the Castellani and all its other neighbours. Had this city been armed and strong, everything would have been just the contrary, for to secure its protection many states would have paid money to it, and would have sought to purchase its friendship, not to sell their own.

Nor are the Florentines the only people who have thus demeaned themselves since the Venetians and the King of France do the same thing; for the latter, great as his kingdom is, habitually pays tribute to the Swiss and to the King of England. This all comes from depriving the people of arms, and from the fact that this king and the other states mentioned have chosen rather to enjoy the present advantage of being able to despoil their people and of being able to avoid an imaginary rather than a real danger, instead of so acting as to secure their people’s goodwill and to make their state happy for ever. A malpractice such as this, though it may bring a little temporary quiet, in time becomes the cause of crises, disaster and irremediable ruin. It would take too long to relate how often the Florentines, the Venetians, and this kingdom, have bought off wars and submitted to an ignominy which the Romans submitted to but once. It would take too long to recount how many towns the Florentines and the Venetians have purchased in which one afterwards saw disorder, and how they failed to protect with steel what gold had purchased. The Romans kept up their standards so long as they remained free; but when they fell under the yoke of the emperors, and the emperors began to behave badly and to prefer the shadow to the sun, they, too, began to make grants sometimes to the Parthians, sometimes to Germany, sometimes to other neighbouring peoples; which was the first step towards that great empire’s downfall.

Such are the inconveniences, then, that arise from depriving your people of arms.53 And there is a worse trouble, too, for the greater the force of the enemy’s attack, the weaker do you find yourself; for he who lives in the aforesaid way treats ill the subjects who reside within his domain, but treats well those who live on its confines in order to have people well disposed to keep the enemy off. It thus comes about that, in order the better to keep the enemy off, he subsidizes the lords and peoples who are his next-door neighbours, with the result that the states which he has thus kept going, offer a modicum of resistance on the frontiers, but, when the enemy has crossed them, no further remedy is available. Such states do not see that their way of proceeding is incompatible with any kind of good order. For it is the heart and the vital parts of the body that have to be strengthened, not its extremities, since without them the body can survive, but, if the former be injured, it dies; yet such states keep unarmed the heart, but arm the hands and the feet.

What this lack of order has done for Florence is clear, and may be seen any day; for when an army crosses its frontiers and gets near its heart, it finds itself without further remedy. Of it the Venetians also gave proof a few years ago, and, if their city had not been girt about by water, it would have been the end of it. In France this experience is not found so frequently, for it is so large a kingdom that it has but few enemies superior to it. None the less, when the English attacked this kingdom in 1513, the whole realm was in trepidation, and the king and everybody else thought that a single defeat would spell ruin to the king and to the state. Very different was it in the case of the Romans, for the nearer the enemy approached to Rome the greater he found the city’s power of resistance to be. When Hannibal invaded Italy, one sees how, after three defeats and the death of so many generals and soldiers, it was still able, not merely to withstand the enemy, but to win the war. All this comes from having fortified well the heart, but of the extremities made less account. For of basic importance in this state were the people of Rome, the people known as Latins, the other parts of Italy associated with it, and its colonies. Thence came the vast number of soldiers which enabled it to fight and to hold the whole world. That this is so may be seen from the question asked by Hanno, the Carthaginian, of the messengers who came from Hannibal after the rout at Cannae. Having made much of Hannibal’s exploits, they were asked by Hanno whether the Roman people had sent to ask for peace, and whether among the Latins and in its colonies any town had revolted against the Romans. To both questions the answer was in the negative, whereupon Hanno remarked: ‘This war, then, is still in as full swing as it was at the start.’

We see from this discourse and from what I have said in other places, how great is the difference between the procedure of present-day republics and that of ancient republics. We see, too, how, because of this, astonishing acquisitions are made and astonishing losses occur daily. For where men have but little virtue, fortune makes a great display of its power; and, since fortune changes, republics and governments frequently change; and will go on changing till someone comes along, so imbued with the love of antiquity that he regulates things in such fashion that fortune does not every time the sun turns round get a chance of showing what it can do.

Book Two, Discourse 31. How Dangerous it is to put Confidence in Refugees

It may not be amiss among other topics to show how dangerous it is to trust those who have been driven from their country, since this is a matter with which everyone who holds office has to deal.54 In support it is possible to adduce a noteworthy case which Titus Livy cites in his histories, though it lies outside his main topic. When Alexander the Great crossed with his army into Asia, Alexander of Epirus, a relative – in fact his uncle – went with some troops to Italy, having been invited by some Lucanian refugees who had led him to expect that through their mediation he would gain the whole of that country. Relying on their word and on the hopes they aroused, he came to Italy and was put to death by them; for their fellow-citizens had promised that, if they would kill him, they might return to their own country. One should reflect, therefore, on the unreliability of agreements and promises made by men who find themselves shut out from their country, because in determining what such men’s word is worth it must be borne in mind that, once they get a chance of returning to their country without your help, they will desert you and turn to others in spite of any promises they may have made you. While in regard to the vain promises and hopes, so intense is their desire to get back home that they naturally believe much that is false and artfully add much more: so that between what they believe and what they say they believe they fill you with a hope which is such that, if you rely on it, either you incur expense in vain or take up what will ruin you.

I propose to let this example of Alexander suffice, conjoined with that of Themistocles the Athenian, who, having been proclaimed a rebel, sought refuge with Darius in Asia; to whom he promised so much if he would but attack Greece that Darius resolved to do so. When later he was unable to fulfil these promises whether out of shame or for fear of punishment, Themistocles poisoned himself. Wherefore, if so eminent a man as Themistocles made this mistake, how much more likely are those to err who are less virtuous and let themselves be swayed by their desires and their passions. A ruler, therefore, should be slow to take up an enterprise because of what some exile has told him, for more often than not all he will get out of it is shame or most grievous harm.

And because the taking of towns by stealth and owing to information supplied by their inhabitants rarely succeeds, it does not seem to me irrelevant to discuss this in the next chapter, as also in how many ways the Romans acquired them.

Book Two, Discourse 32. On the Various Methods used by the Romans in taking Towns

Since the Romans were all keen on war, they always and on all occasions took advantage of anything, alike in the matter of expense and of any other matter, that promised to help. It was for this reason that they took care not to besiege the towns they took, for they thought this method so costly and so clumsy that its disadvantages would much more than counterbalance the advantages likely to accrue from the conquest. Hence they deemed it better and more useful to subjugate towns by any other means rather than lay siege to them, so that in all their wars and in all the years they took, there are very few instances of their having used sieges.

In order to get hold of a city, therefore, the Romans either took it by assault or got it to surrender. Their assaults were either carried out openly in strength and with violence, or by force conjoined with fraud. When storming a town openly they used two methods. Either they attacked it on all sides without first demolishing the walls, which is called ‘putting a crown round the city’ since the whole army surrounds it and engages it at all points; and in this way they often succeeded in taking a city, even a very large one, at the first assault, as Scipio took New Carthage in Spain. Or, when an attack failed, they set about breaking down the walls with rams and other siege implements, or made a sap by which they obtained entrance to the city, as was done when Veii was taken; or to get on a level with those defending the walls, they constructed wooden towers, or raised earthworks against the walls from without, so as to be at the same height as the defenders.

Against such assaults the city’s defenders in the first case, where the attack came from all sides, were more quickly exposed to danger and had more dubious remedies. For, since many defenders were needed everywhere, either those they had were not enough to provide them all with reserves and reliefs; or, if they could, not all were equally courageous in resisting, and, if a section shirked the battle, all was lost. Hence it often happened, as I have said, that this method proved successful. But when the first assault was not successful, they did not keep it going long, because this was too dangerous for the army; for, since it covered so much ground, it could as a whole resist but feebly a sortie made by those within. The troops, too, got out of hand and grew weary; but for just once, when it was unexpected, they would try this method. When a breach was made in the walls, it was countered by means of ramparts as at the present time. And to counteract a sap, they made a countersap through which they got at the enemy either with their weapons or by other devices; of which one consisted of barrels filled with feathers to which they applied a light, and, when burning, put them in the sap so that the smoke and the stench might prevent the enemy getting through. While, if attacked from towers, they tried to destroy them by fire; and, if from earthworks, they made a hole in the lower part of the wall on which the earthwork was leaning, and drew in the earth which those outside had put there, so that, since the earth was being piled up outside and being taken away from the inside, the earthwork did not grow.

Such methods of storming a town could not be kept up for long, so they had either to raise their camp or to devise other methods of winning the war, as Scipio did when he got to Africa; for when he attacked Utica, but did not succeed in taking it, he raised his camp and sought to engage the Carthaginian armies and break them. Or they would have recourse to a siege, as they did at Veii, Capua, Carthage, Jerusalem and other towns which they took by means of sieges.

The acquiring of towns by furtive violence is illustrated in the case of Palaeopolis, which the Romans took by arrangement with fifth columnistsa inside. This form of attack has often been tried by the Romans and by other peoples, but has seldom succeeded. The reason is that at the smallest set back the plan breaks down, and such setbacks easily happen. For in the first place the conspiracy may be discovered before it comes to a head, and in discovering it there is not much difficulty, owing sometimes to the treachery of those who have been told of it, sometimes to practical difficulties. For you must get in touch with the enemy, with whom it is not permitted to speak unless you can find some excuse. And, should the plot not be discovered while arrangements are being made, a host of difficulties occur when the time comes for action. For if you arrive before the time appointed, or get there late, anything may upset the plot. So, too, if there occurs some unexpected noise, such as the geese made at the Capitol, or if the normal course of events is interrupted. Given the least blunder or the smallest mistake, the attack is bound to fail. In addition to which there is the darkness of the night to add to the fear of those engaged in such dangerous tasks; and the fact that most of the men who are taken on such expeditions, having had no experience of the country or of the place to which they are being led, may get muddled and faint-hearted, or upset by some tiny and accidental mishap; and any false impression is enough to make them turn tail.

Anyone more lucky in such stealthy nocturnal ventures than Aratus the Sicyonian is not to be found, yet, bold as he was in these, he was equally nervous about ventures in daylight and in the open. This we may put down to some occult virtue with which he was endowed, rather than to anything in the nature of nocturnal expeditions which makes them more fortunate than others. Though such means are frequently planned, therefore, but few arrive at fruition, and very few succeed.

When towns are acquired by surrender, the surrender may either be voluntary or compulsory. When voluntary, it is due either to some external circumstance which compels a town to seek protection under another’s wing, as Capua sought Rome’s; or to the desire to be well ruled, a desire evoked by the good government exercised by the prince in question over those who of their own accord have placed themselves in his hands, as was the case with the Rhodians, the Massilians and other such cities which surrendered to the Roman people. When the surrender is compulsory, it is either brought about by a long siege, as we have said above; or it is due to the continued vexation produced by raids, depredations and other annoyances, to escape which a city surrenders.

Of all the methods mentioned above, the Romans used the last more than any. For more than four hundred and fifty years they sought to tire out their neighbours by defeats in the field and by raids, and by means of treaties managed to acquire greater repute than their rivals did, as we have pointed out elsewhere. It was on this method that they always relied most, though they tried them all, but found the others fraught with danger or of no use. For sieges are long and costly, assaults of doubtful issue and risky; and conspiracies are unreliable. They also realized that, if the enemy’s army was routed, they acquired a kingdom in a day; whereas, if they besieged an obstinate city, it might take years to get it.

33. The Romans gave to Army Commanders Discretionary Powers

If one is to profit from the perusal of Livy’s history one ought, I think, to take account of all the modes of procedure used by the people and senate of Rome and among other points worthy of notice there is the authority we find them giving to their consuls, dictators and other army commanders when in the field. It was of a very high order, for the senate reserved to itself only the power to initiate fresh wars and to confirm peace treaties. All else was left to the discretion and power of the consul. For, when the people and senate had decided to go to war, against the Latins, for instance, they left everything else to the discretion of the consul, who could either give battle or not give it, and attack this or that town as he thought fit.

This is confirmed by numerous examples, but especially by what occurred in an expedition against the Tuscans. The consul, Fabius, had defeated those who were near Sutrium, and was planning next to lead his army through the Ciminian forest en route for Tuscany. About this, not only did he not consult the senate, but he did not even inform them, though the war was to be carried on in a new, unexplored and dangerous country. Further confirmation is afforded by the action the senate here took, which was of the opposite kind; for, when they heard of the victory which Fabius had gained and wondered whether his next step would be to pass through the said forest into Tuscany, they thought it best not to run the risk this war would entail, and so sent two legates to Fabius to stop him from going on to Tuscany. But, when they arrived, he had already got there and had won a victory, so that, instead of preventing a war, the legates came home bringing news of a conquest and of glory won.

Whoever considers carefully this technique will see that it was very wise to make use of it. For, if the senate had required a consul in conducting a war to proceed step by step according as they directed, it would have made him less circumspect and slower to act, for it would have seemed to him that the glory of victory would not be wholly his, but that the senate would share in it, since it would have been carried out under its directions. Furthermore, the senate would have had to advise on matters of which it had no immediate cognizance; for, though the senators were all men of considerable experience in military matters, yet, as they were not on the spot, they would not be acquainted with the multitudinous details which it is essential to know before one can give sound advice, and so would have made numerous mistakes. This being so, they preferred that the consul should decide what to do, and that the glory should be wholly his, for they thought his actions would be so restrained and regulated by his love of glory that he would do his utmost.

To this I have the more willingly called attention, because I notice that the republics of today, such as the Venetian and the Florentine republics, act differently, for if their generals, administrators or commissioners, have to set up a piece of artillery, they want to know of it and to advise about it, – a procedure as praiseworthy as are others of that ilk, which together have brought us to our present pass.

Book Three: The Example of Rome’s Great Men

Book Three, Discourses 1–5: Reform, Security and the Elimination of Rivals

Book Three, Discourse 1. In Order that a Religious Institution or a State should long survive it is essential that it should frequently be Restored to its original principles (a)

It is a well-established fact that the life of all mundane things is of finite duration. But things which complete the whole of the course appointed them by heaven are in general those whose bodies do not disintegrate, but maintain themselves in orderly fashion so that if there is no change; or, if there be change, it tends rather to their conservation than to their destruction. Here I am concerned with composite bodies, such as are states and religious institutions, and in their regard I affirm that those changes make for their conservation which lead them back to their origins.b Hence those are better constituted and have a longer life whose institutions make frequent renovations possible, or which are brought to such a renovation by some event which has nothing to do with their constitution. For it is clearer than daylight that, without renovation, these bodies do not last.

The way to renovate them, as has been said, is to reduce them to their starting-points. For at the start religious institutions, republics and kingdoms have in all cases some good in them, to which their early reputation and progress is due. But since in process of time this goodness is corrupted, such a body must of necessity die unless something happens which brings it up to the mark. Thus, our medical men, speaking of the human body, say that ‘every day it absorbs something which from time to time requires treatment’.

This return to its original principles in the case of a republic, is brought about either by some external event or by its own intrinsic good sense. Thus, as an example of the former, we see how it was necessary that Rome should be taken by the Gauls in order that it should be re-born and in its re- birth take on alike a new vitality and a new virtue, and also take up again the observance of religion and justice, both of which had begun to show blemishes. This plainly appears from Livy’s account where he shows how, when the Romans led out their army against the Gauls and created tribunes with consular power, they observed no religious ceremony. And, in like manner, not only did they not punish the three Fabii who had attacked the Gauls ‘in contravention of the Law of Nations’, but they made them tribunes. Whence it is easy to infer that of the good constitutions established by Romulus and by those other wise princes they had begun to take less account than was reasonable and necessary for the maintenance of a free state. This defeat in a war with outsiders, therefore, came about so that the institutions of this city should be renovated and to show this people that not only is it essential to uphold religion and justice, but also to hold in high esteem good citizens and to look upon their virtue as of greater value than those comforts of which there appeared to them to be a lack owing to what these men had done. This actually came about. For as soon as Rome had been recovered they renewed all the ordinances of their ancient religion and punished the Fabii who had fought ‘in contravention of the Law of Nations’. They also set such esteem on the virtue and goodness of Camillus that the senate and the rest, putting envy aside, laid on his shoulders the whole burden of this republic.

It is, therefore, as I have said, essential that men who live together under any constitution should frequently have their attention called to themselves either by some external or by some internal occurrence. When internal, such occurrences are usually due to some law which from time to time causes the members of this body to review their position; or again to some good man who arises in their midst and by his example and his virtuous deeds produces the same effect as does the constitution.

Such benefits, therefore, are conferred on a republic either by the virtue of some individual or by the virtue of an institution. In regard to the latter, the institutions which caused the Roman republic to return to its start were the introduction of plebeian tribunes, of the censorship, and of all the other laws which put a check on human ambition and arrogance; to which institutions life must needs be given by some virtuous citizen who cooperates strenuously in giving them effect despite the power of those who contravene them. Notable among such drastic actions, before the taking of Rome by the Gauls, were the death of Brutus’ sons, the death of the ten citizens, and that of Maelius, the corn-dealer. After the taking of Rome there was the death of Manlius Capitolinus, the death of Manlius Torquatus’ son, the action taken by Papirius Cursor against Fabius, his master of horse, and the charge brought against the Scipios. Such events, because of their unwonted severity and their notoriety, brought men back to the mark every time one of them happened; and when they began to occur less frequently, they also began to provide occasion for men to practise corruption, and were attended with more danger and more commotion. For between one case of disciplinary action of this type and the next there ought to elapse at most ten years, because by this time men begin to change their habits and to break the laws; and, unless something happens which recalls to their minds the penalty involved and reawakens fear in them, there will soon be so many delinquents that it will be impossible to punish them without danger.

In regard to this, those who governed the state of Florence from 1434 to 1494 used to say that it was necessary to reconstitute the government every five years; otherwise it was difficult to maintain it; where by ‘reconstituting the government’ they meant instilling men with that terror and that fear with which they had instilled them when instituting it – in that at this time they had chastised those who, looked at from the established way of life, had misbehaved. As, however, the remembrance of this chastisement disappears, men are emboldened to try something fresh and to talk sedition. Hence provision has of necessity to be made against this by restoring that government to what it was at its origins.

Such a return to their original principles in republics is sometimes due to the simple virtue of one man alone, independently of any laws spurring you to action. For of such effect is a good reputation and good example that men seek to imitate it, and the bad are ashamed to lead lives which go contrary to it. Those who in Rome are outstanding examples of this good influence, are Horatius Cocles, Scaevola, Fabricius, the two Decii, Regulus Attilius, and several others, whose rare and virtuous examples wrought the same effects in Rome as laws and institutions would have done. If then effective action of the kind described above, together with this setting of good example, had occurred in that city at least every ten years, it necessarily follows that it would never have become corrupt. But when both the one and the other began to occur more rarely, corruption began to spread. For, after the time of Marcus Regulus, there appeared no examples of this kind, and, though in Rome there arose the two Catos, between them and any prior instance there was so great an interval, and again between the Catos themselves, and they stood so alone that their good example could have no good effect; especially in the case of the younger Cato who found the greater part of the city so corrupt that he could not by his example effect any improvement among the citizens. So much then for republics.

As to religious institutions one sees here again how necessary these renovations are from the example of our own religion, which, if it had not been restored to its starting-point by St Francis and St Dominic, would have become quite extinct. For these men by their poverty and by their exemplification of the life of Christ revived religion in the minds of men in whom it was already dead, and so powerful were these new religious orders that they prevented the depravity of prelates and of religious heads from bringing ruin on religion. They also lived so frugally and had such prestige with the populace as confessors and preachers that they convinced them it is an evil thing to talk evilly of evil doing, and a good thing to live under obedience to such prelates, and that, if they did wrong, it must be left to God to chastise them. And, this being so, the latter behave as badly as they can, because they are not afraid of punishments which they do not see and in which they do not believe. It is, then, this revival which has maintained and continues to maintain this religion.

Kingdoms, also need to be renovated and to have their laws brought back to their starting-points. The salutary effect this produces is seen in the kingdom of France, for the conduct of affairs in this kingdom is controlled by more laws and more institutions than it is in any other. These laws and these institutions are maintained by parlements, notably by that of Paris, and by it they are renovated whenever it takes action against a prince of this realm or in its judgements condemns the king. Up to now it has maintained its position by the pertinacity with which it has withstood the nobility of this realm. But should it at any time let an offence remain unpunished and should offences begin to multiply, the result would unquestionably be either that they would have to be corrected to the accompaniment of grievous disorders or that the kingdom would disintegrate.

The conclusion we reach, then, is that there is nothing more necessary to a community, whether it be a religious establishment, a kingdom or a republic, than to restore to it the prestige it had at the outset, and to take care that either good institutions or good men shall bring this about rather than that external force should give rise to it. For though this on occasion may be the best remedy, as it was in Rome’s case, it is so dangerous that in no case is it what one should desire.

In order to make it clear to all how much the action of particular men contributed to the greatness of Rome and produced in that city so many beneficial results, I shall proceed to narrate and to discuss their doings, and shall confine myself to this topic in this third and last book on this first Decad {of Livy’s history}. And, though the actions of the kings were great and noteworthy, since history deals with them at length I shall not mention them here, except where they may have done things with a view to their personal advantage. I begin, then, with Brutus, the father of Rome’s liberties.

Book Three, Discourse 2. That it is a Very Good Notion at Times to pretend to be a Fool

No one ever acted so prudently nor acquired such a reputation for wisdom owing to any remarkable deed as that which Junius Brutus earned by pretending to be stupid. And although Titus Livy assigns but one cause as the ground which induced him to practise this dissimulation, namely, that he might live in greater security and preserve his estates, none the less, in view of his conduct, one can well believe that he practised it also in order to escape observation and that he might get a better opportunity of downing the kings and liberating his country, whenever they gave him a chance. That it was of this he was thinking is clear first from the interpretation he put on the oracle of Apollo when he pretended to fall down so that he might kiss the ground, and from this inferred that the gods looked with favour on what he had in mind; and, later, when on the death of Lucretia he was the first to pull the dagger out of the wound in the presence of her father, her husband and other of her relatives, and to make the bystanders swear that they would never tolerate for the future any king reigning in Rome.

From the example this man set, all those who are ill content with a prince should take note that they ought first to measure and to weigh their strength. Should they be so powerful that they can afford to declare themselves his enemies and openly to make war on him, this is the course they should adopt, since it is less dangerous and more honourable. But if their position is such that they have not sufficient forces to make war openly, they should use every endeavour to acquire the prince’s friendship; and to this end should avail themselves of every opening which they think necessary to attain it, by becoming obsequious to his wishes and by taking pleasure in everything in which they see that he takes pleasure. Such familiar intercourse in the first place assures that your life will be safe, and, without entailing any danger, allows you to enjoy the prince’s good fortune just as he does himself. It also provides you with ample opportunity for fulfilling your intentions.

True, there are those who say that you ought not to live in such close proximity to princes as to be included in their downfall, nor yet so far away from them that, when their downfall occurs, you cannot take advantage of it; and doubtless the middle course would be the best, were it possible to adopt it. As, however, I am convinced that this middle course is impracticable, it behoves one to have recourse to the aforesaid two methods, i.e. either to act openly or to get tied up with them. He who acts otherwise, if he be a man who by his endowments has gained eminence, lives in perpetual danger. Nor is it enough for him to say: ‘There is nothing I am out to obtain. I want neither honours nor advantages. All that I ask for is to live quietly and without embarrassment!’ For such excuses are heard but gain no credence. Nor can men who are distinguished take this line, even though they sincerely desire to do so and have no further ambition, since no one will believe them; so that, though they prefer to be left alone, others will not leave them alone. It behoves them, therefore, to play the fool, as Brutus did, and to act more or less like lunatics, admiring, talking about, attending to, and doing things in which they have not the slightest interest in order to ingratiate themselves with the prince.

We have been discussing the prudence displayed by Brutus in his endeavour to restore freedom to Rome, so let us now say something about the severity he displayed in maintaining it.

Book Three, Discourse 3. When Liberty has been newly acquired it is Necessary in Order to maintain it to ‘Kill the Sons of Brutus’

The severity used by Brutus was no less necessary than it was useful in maintaining the liberty which Rome had just acquired by his aid. Of such severity one rarely comes across a case in history in which a father not only sits on a tribunal and condemns his own sons to death, but is present at their death. Those, however, who are familiar with ancient history are well aware that, when the form of government has been changed, whether from a republic to a tyranny or a tyranny to a republic, it is in all cases essential that exemplary action be taken against those who are hostile to the new state of affairs. He who establishes a tyranny and does not kill ‘Brutus’, and he who establishes a free state and does not kill ‘the Sons of Brutus’, will not last long.

Since this question has already been discussed at length elsewhere55 I refer the reader back to what was there said, and shall here give but one example, a modern one, which took place in our own day and in our own country. It is that of Piero Soderini who thought that by patience and goodness he could quell the desire of ‘Brutus’s sons’ to return to another form of government, but in this he was mistaken. Though, being a prudent man, he recognized the need for action, and thought the type of ambitious men who were against him gave him ground for getting rid of them, yet he could never make up his mind to do this. For, in addition to thinking that he could by patience and goodness extinguish their malevolence, and by distributing rewards put an end to some of their hostility, he was of opinion – and often told his friends so in confidence – that, if he were to take vigorous action against his opponents and to fight his adversaries, he would need to assume extraordinary authority and introduce laws disruptive of civic equality; and that such a course and such authority, even though he did not henceforth use it tyrannically, would so alarm the general public that, after his death, they would never again agree to appoint a gonfalonier for life, an office which he thought it would be well to strengthen and to keep up.

Such a point of view was wise and good. None the less, an evil should never be allowed to continue out of respect for a good when that good may easily be overwhelmed by that evil. Soderini ought to have considered that, when his actions and his intentions came to be judged by their end and in the light of the good fortune and the life that had accompanied them, he would be able to convince everyone that what he had done, was done for the security of his country, and not for ambitious reasons. He could, moreover, so have regulated things that none of his successors could do with evil intent what he had done with good intent. But the view which he first adopted misled him, for he failed to realize that malevolence is not vanquished by time, nor placated by any gifts. With the result that, through his inability to emulate Brutus, he lost both his position and his reputation, a loss in which his country shared.

And just as it is a difficult thing to give security to a self-governing state, so, too, is it difficult to give security to a kingdom, as will be shown in the next chapter.

Book Three, Discourse 4. A Prince cannot Live Securely in a Principality while those are Alive who have been despoiled of it

The death of Tarquinius Priscus at the hands of the sons of Ancus, and the death of Servius Tullius at the hands of Tarquin the Proud, show how difficult and dangerous it is to deprive anyone of his kingdom and to leave him alive even though one try to win him over by benefits. Tarquinius Priscus was clearly led astray because, aware that he had a juridical right to the kingdom which he had obtained through the gift of the people confirmed by the senate, he did not believe that the sons of Ancus could be so indignant as not to rest content with that with which all Rome was content. And Servius Tullius was mistaken, because he thought he could be conferring on them fresh benefits win over the sons of Tarquin.

The first case is, therefore, a warning to all princes that they can never live secure in their principality so long as those live who have been despoiled of it. The second is a reminder to all potentates that old injuries are never cancelled by new benefits, least of all when the benefits are of less importance than the injuries previously inflicted. Undoubtedly Servius Tullius was far from prudent in thinking that the sons of Tarquin would be content to be his sons-in-law when in their opinion they ought to have been his king. The passion for ruling is, moreover, so great that it not only enters the breasts of those who have a claim to the kingdom but also into the breasts of those who have not. This was so in the case of the wife of the younger Tarquin, Servius’ daughter, who, impelled by this mad passion, thought so little of her duty to her father that she incited her husband to take both his life and his kingdom, so much more highly did she fancy herself as a queen than as the daughter of a king.

If, then, Tarquinius Priscus and Servius Tullius lost their kingdoms through not knowing how to secure themselves against those whose kingdom they had usurped, Tarquin the Proud lost his through not observing the institutions made by its former kings, as will be shown in the next chapter.

Book Three, Discourse 5. What it is that causes a Hereditary Prince to lose his Kingdom

Since Servius Tullius left no heirs, Tarquin the Proud, who had killed him, entered into secure possession of the kingdom, for he had nothing to fear from the kind of thing that had injured his predecessors. Though this way of obtaining a kingdom is abnormal and odious, yet, had Tarquin respected the ancient institutions of former kings, he would have been in a strong position, and would not have antagonized the senate and the populace so that they sought to deprive him of it. The reason for his expulsion, then, was not that his son, Sextus, had ravished Lucretia, but that he had violated the laws of the kingdom and ruled tyrannically. He deprived the senate of all authority and took it into his own hands. Business which used to be transacted in public assemblies to the senate’s satisfaction, he carried on in his palace, accepting the responsibility and its consequences. The result was that before long Rome had lost all the liberties she had enjoyed under previous kings. Nor did it suffice to have made the patricians his enemies; he aroused also the animosity of the plebs by setting them mechanical tasks to do, quite different from those which his predecessors had set them to do; so that by filling Rome with instances of his cruelty and pride, he had already aroused in the minds of all Romans a spirit of revolt, ready to break out should occasion arise. Hence, if the Lucretia incident had not occurred, something else would have happened and would have led to the same result. Whereas, if Tarquin had behaved like the other kings, when his son, Sextus, committed his crime, Brutus and Collatinus would have appealed to Tarquin to avenge it, and not to the Roman people.

From this princes should learn, therefore, that they begin to lose their state the moment they begin to break the laws and to disregard the ancient traditions and customs under which men have long lived. And if, when they have been deprived of their state, they should ever become so prudent as to realize with what ease principalities may be held by those who think wisely, their loss will inevitably become much more bitter and will condemn them to a punishment greater than that to which they have been condemned by other men. For it is much easier to acquire the affection of good men than of bad, and to obey laws rather than to override them.

If they would discover how to behave in order to do this, all they have to do is to glance at the looking-glass in which the lives of good men are reflected: Timoleon the Corinthian, for instance, Aratus the Sicyonian and such-like; in whose lives they will find both governors and governed enjoying such security and contentment that it should make them desire to imitate them, which they can do easily for the reasons aforesaid. For when men are well governed, they do not go about looking for further liberty; as was the case with the peoples governed by the two persons mentioned above, for they insisted on their remaining princes so long as they lived, though more than once both of them sought to retire to private life.

Since in this and in the two preceding chapters we have dealt with the disaffection aroused against princes and with the conspiracy organized by the sons of Brutus against their country, and with those made against Tarquinius Priscus and Servius Tullius, it will not be beside the point, I think, to discuss conspiracies at length in the next chapter, since they constitute a topic of which both princes and private persons should take due note.

Book Three, Discourse 6: On Conspiracies
Book Three, Discourse 6. On Conspiracies

{In view of the abnormal length of this Discourse, insets indicating the subjects discussed have been inserted (by Fr. Walker) at the beginning of each paragraph or set of paragraphs}

{Introductory}

Since conspiracies are of such dangerous consequence alike to princes and to private persons, I cannot well omit to discuss their nature, for it is plain that many more princes have lost their lives and their states in this way than by open war, because it is given to but few to make open war on a prince, whereas anyone can conspire against him.56 There is, on the other hand, no enterprise in which private persons can engage, more dangerous or more rash than is this, for it is both difficult and extremely dangerous in all its stages. Whence it comes about that, though many conspiracies have been attempted, very few have attained the desired end. Hence, in order that princes may learn how to guard against these dangers, and that private persons may think twice before undertaking them and may learn, instead, to be content with life under the regime which fate has placed over them, I shall speak of conspiracies at length, omitting nothing of importance that is relevant either to a prince or to a private person. There is, in fact, a golden saying voiced by Cornelius Tacitus, who says that men have to respect the past but to submit to the present, and, while they should be desirous of having good princes, should put up with them of whatever sort they may turn out to be. And unquestionably those who act otherwise usually bring disaster both upon themselves and upon their country.

In starting to deal with this topic the first thing to be considered is against whom conspiracies are formed. It will be found that they are formed either against one’s fatherland or against a prince. I propose here to discuss both these types, for of conspiracies formed with a view to handing over a town to the enemy besieging it or conspiracies which for one reason or another resemble this, enough has been said elsewhere.

{Causes}

We shall deal in the first part of this discourse with conspiracies against a prince, and shall inquire first as to their causes, which are many. There is, however, one which is much more important than all the rest. This consists in the universal hatred a prince may evoke, for when a prince has aroused such universal hatred it is to be expected that there will be certain persons to whom he has given greater offence and that they will seek vengeance. This desire will be intensified by the universal ill will which they notice has been aroused against him. A prince, therefore, should avoid incurring these personal reproaches, and since what he has to do in order to avoid them has been discussed elsewhere I shall refrain from discussing it here: I mention it because, if he does guard against this, the mere giving of offence to individuals will evoke less hostility. The reason is, first, that one rarely comes across men so indignant at an unjust act as to endanger themselves to such an extent by seeking vengeance; and secondly, that, should they actually be inclined to do this and have the requisite power, they are restrained by the universal goodwill which they see that the prince enjoys.

Injuries may affect either a man’s property, his life or his honour. The threat of bloodshed is more dangerous than is the shedding of blood. To threaten to shed blood is, in fact, extremely dangerous: whereas to shed it is attended with no danger at all, for a dead man cannot contemplate vengeance, and those that remain alive usually leave you to do the contemplating. But a man who has been threatened and sees that he must of necessity either do something or be for it, has been turned into a real menace for the prince, as we shall cite cases presently to show.

Prescinding from the case in which action is imposed by necessity, injuries affecting a man’s property or honour are the two things which give men greater offence than anything else, and against them the prince should be on his guard, for he can never so despoil anyone but that there will remain to him a knife with which to wreak vengeance. Nor can he deprive a man of his honour to such an extent that his mind will cease to be set on vengeance. And of the honours of which men may be deprived, that which imports most is a woman’s honour, and, after that, contempt for a man’s person. It was this that caused Pausanias to take up arms against Philip of Macedon; and this that has caused many others to take up arms against many other princes. In our day Lucio Belanti would not have been moved to conspire against Pandolfo, the tyrant of Siena, if he had not given him his daughter to wife and then taken her away again, as we shall relate in due course. The chief cause which led the Pazzi to conspire against the Medici was the inheritance of Giovanni Bonromei of which they had been deprived by the Medici’s orders.

Another cause, and this a very powerful one, that makes men conspire against a prince, is the desire to liberate their fatherland of which a prince has seized possession. It was this that caused Brutus and Cassius to turn against Caesar; this that led to many other conspiracies, against Phalaris, Dionysius and against other usurpers of their country’s rights. Nor can any tyrant prevail over this spirit, except by discarding his tyranny. And since one does not find tyrants doing this, one finds few who have not come to a miserable end. Hence the verse of Juvenal: “To Pluto’s realm few kings unscathed descend, Nor tyrants oft escape a sticky end.”

{One-man conspiracies}

The dangers involved in conspiracies, as I have said above, are considerable, and go on all the time, for in a conspiracy dangers crop up alike in forming the plot, in carrying it out, and as a result or its having been carried out. Plots may be formed by one conspirator, or by several. If by one person only, it cannot rightly be called a conspiracy. Rather it is a firm resolve on the part of some individual to kill the prince. Of the three dangers conspiracies entail, a one-man conspiracy lacks the first. For no danger can arise before the time for action comes, since no one else being privy to the secret, there is no danger of the plot being carried to the ears of the prince. To make a resolve of this kind lies within the competence of anybody whatsoever, be he great, small, noble or insignificant,a intimate or not intimate with the prince. For anyone is allowed at some time or other to speak to the prince, and anyone who gets the chance of speaking to him, gets a chance to relieve his feelings. Pausanias, of whom we have already spoken several times, killed Philip of Macedon as he was on his way to the temple with a lot of armed men about him and his son on one side and his son-in-law on the other. The former, however, was a nobleman and an acquaintance of the prince. {But there are others.} A poor, miserable Spaniard stuck a dagger in the neck of Ferdinand, king of Spain, and, though the wound was not fatal, it shows us that a man of this type may have both the intention and the opportunity of doing such a thing. A dervish, or Turkish priest, struck at Bajazet, the father of the present Turk, with a scimitar. He did not kill him, but he certainly had the intention and the opportunity of so doing. One finds plenty of people, I think, who would like to do such things, for the intention is attended neither with penalty nor danger of any kind. Yet there are but few who actually do such things, and of those who do, there are very few, if any, who do not themselves get killed in the very act. Hence one does not find men keen on going to certain death. But let us leave these one-man plots and turn to conspiracies involving several people.

{Conspiracies formed by the weak}

I maintain that one finds in history that all conspiracies have been made by men of standing or else by men in immediate attendance on a prince,a for other people, unless they be sheer lunatics, cannot form a conspiracy; since men without power and those who are not touch with a prince are devoid alike of any hope and of any opportunity of carrying out a conspiracy successfully. For, first of all, men without power cannot get hold of anyone who will keep faith with them, since no one can consent to do what they want under any of those prospects which induce men to take great risks, so that, once the plot has been communicated to two or three people, an informer will turn up and they are ruined. Moreover, should they actually be lucky enough to avoid informers, the carrying out of the plot will involve them in such difficulties, owing to the lack of easy access to the prince, that it will be impossible for them to escape disaster in carrying out their scheme. For, if men of standing and those who have easy access succumb to these difficulties, which will be dealt with presently, it is to be expected that in the case of these others such difficulties will be magnified without end. Consequently, since when their lives and property are not at stake, men do not entirely lose their heads, they become cautious when they recognize their weakness, and when they get sick of a prince confine themselves to cursing him, and wait for those of higher standing than they have, to avenge them. So that, should one in fact come across somebody of this kind who has attempted such a thing, one should praise his intention but not his prudence.

{Conspiracies formed by the strong}

It would seem, then, that conspirators have all been men of standing or intimates of the prince, and, of these, those who have been moved to conspire by too many benefits are as numerous as those moved to conspire by too many injuries, as was the case with Perennis versus Commodus, Plautianus versus Severus, and Sejanus versus Tiberius. For to all these men their emperors had granted such wealth and so many honours and titles that there seemed to be nothing wanting to complete their power, save the imperial title; so, since with the lack of this they were unwilling to put up, they were moved to conspire against their prince, and their conspiracy in each case was attended with the results which their ingratitude merited.

Of similar conspiracies which have occurred in more recent times there is, however, one that met with success, that of Jacopo di Appiano against Messer Piero Gambacorti, prince of Pisa; for this Jacopo had been brought up by, reared by, and owed his reputation to, the very person whom later on he deprived of his power. There is also in our own times the conspiracy of Coppola against king Ferdinand of Aragon; the said Coppola having attained a greatness such that the only thing that seemed to him to be lacking was a kingdom, and since he made up his mind to acquire this, he lost his life. And yet, if any conspiracies against a prince, made by men of standing, ought to have succeeded it should surely have been this, since it was made by another king, so to speak, who had every convenience requisite to satisfying his desire. But that lust for domination, which blinds men, blinds them yet again in the way they set about the business: for, if they knew but how to do their evil deeds with prudence, it would be impossible for them not to succeed.

{A warning to princes}

A prince, therefore, who wants to guard against conspiracies, should fear those on whom he has conferred excessive favours more than those to whom he has done excessive injury. For the latter lack opportunity, whereas the former abound in it, and the desire is the same in both cases; for the desire to rule is as great as, or greater than, is the desire for vengeance. Consequently princes should confer on their friends an authority of such magnitude that between it and that of the prince there remains a certain interval, and between the two a something else to be desired. Otherwise it will be a strange thing if that does not happen to them which happened to the princes we have been talking about. But to return to the lines of our discourse.

{The danger due to informers}

Having said that conspirators must be men of standing and have easy access to the prince, I must now discuss the success of these, their undertaking, and inquire as to why some have succeeded and others have failed. As I have remarked above, in conspiracies there are three stages at which danger may be found to occur: at the start, while carrying them out, and afterwards. One finds that few conspiracies prove successful because it is impossible, or almost impossible, to pass through all three stages successfully. Let us begin by discussing the dangers incurred at the outset. These are the more important, I maintain, since there is need of great discretion and one must have considerable luck if, in making one’s plans, the plot is not to be discovered. Plots are discovered either from information received or by conjecture. Leakage of information is due either to lack of loyalty or to lack of discretion among those to whom you communicate the plot. Lack of loyalty may easily occur, because you can only communicate your plan to those in whom you have such confidence that you think they will risk death for your sake, or else to men who are discontented with the prince. Now there may be one or two persons whom you can trust, but it is impossible to find such men if you reveal your plans to many people, for the goodwill they bear you must indeed be great if the danger and the fear of punishment is not to outweigh it in their estimation. Men, too, quite frequently make mistakes about the affection another man has for them, nor can you be sure of it unless of it you have previously had experience, and to acquire experience in such a matter is a very risky business. Even should you have had experience of some other dangerous affair in which they have been loyal to you, you cannot infer from their loyalty in this case that they will be equally loyal in another which far exceeds it in dangers of all kinds. While if you judge of a person’s loyalty by the degree of disaffection he has for the prince, here, too, you may easily be mistaken; for by the very fact of your having opened your mind to such a malcontent, you provide him with material with which to obtain contentment, so that, if he is to keep faith with you, either his hatred must be great or your influence over him must be very great indeed.

It thus comes about that conspiracies are frequently revealed and are crushed at the very start. Indeed, it is looked on as a marvel if a plot which has been communicated to many people, remains secret for any length of time, as was the case with that formed by Piso against Nero, and in our day with that formed by the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Juliano de’ Medici, to which there were privy more than fifty persons and yet it was not discovered till it came to the point of execution.

{The danger due to indiscretion}

As to discovery due to lack of discretion, this comes about when a conspiracy is spoken of without due caution and a servant or some third person gets to hear of it, as happened to the sons of Brutus who were overheard discussing their plans with Tarquin’s messengers by a servant who informed against them. Or it may be due to your having lightly communicated it to a lady friend or to a boy friend or to some other frivolous person, as did Dymnus, who with Philotas and others conspired against Alexander the Great, and talked of the conspiracy to Nicomachus, a boy of whom he was fond, who at once told his brother, Cebalinus, about it, and Cebalinus told it to the king.

{Discovery due to conjecture}

As to discovery due to conjecture, we have an example of this in the Pisonian conspiracy formed against Nero, in which Scaevinus, one of the conspirators, made his will on the day before he had to kill Nero, ordered Milichus, his freedman, to have his old and rusty dagger sharpened up, freed all his slaves and gave them money, and had bandages got ready for binding up the wounded; from which facts Milichus conjectured that there was a plot and told Nero. Scaevinus was arrested, together with Natales, another conspirator, who had been seen talking together for a long time and in secret the day before; and, as their explanations did not agree, they were forced to tell the truth; so that the conspiracy was discovered, with disastrous results for all concerned in it.

{The difficulty of preventing discovery}

Against discovery due to such causes it is impossible so to guard as to prevent the plot being revealed, whether owing to malice, to indiscretion or to frivolous conversation, in all cases in which the number of those who are cognizant of it exceeds three or four. For, should more than one of the conspirators be arrested, it is impossible to prevent its coming out, because two cannot possibly agree as to every detail in the explanations they give. If only one man is arrested and he be a man of resolution, he may have sufficient strength of mind to be silent about his fellow conspirators. It is essential, however, that the other conspirators have no less courage than he has in standing their ground and not running away, for the conspiracy will be revealed by either party in which courage is lacking, whether by the man who has been arrested or those who are still at large.

There is, indeed, a rare case given by Titus Livy, namely, the conspiracy formed against Hieronymus, king of Syracuse, in which, when Theodotus, one of the conspirators, was arrested, he showed great virtue in concealing all the other conspirators, and accused the king’s own friends; and the other conspirators, on their part, had such confidence in Theodotus’ virtue, that not one of them left Syracuse or showed any other sign of fear.

{Precautions against discovery}

These, then, are the dangers to which a conspiracy is exposed in the course of its formation before the time comes for it to be carried out; and, if they are to be avoided, these are the remedies. The first, the safest and, to tell the truth, the only one, is not to allow the conspirators time to give information against you, and to tell them of your plan only when you are ready to act, and not before. Those who have so acted, at any rate escape the dangers involved in contriving the plot, and more often than not, the others also. All of them, in fact, have been successful, and any prudent man should find it possible to conduct things in this fashion. I shall cite two cases, and leave it at that.

Nelematus, being unable to stand the tyranny of Aristotimus, tyrant of Epirus, collected in his house many of his relations and friends, and exhorted them to set their country free. Some of them asked for time to consider the matter and to put their affairs in order. Whereupon Nelematus told his servants to lock the doors of the house, and to those whom he had called together said: ‘Either you swear to go and do the deed now, or I shall hand you all over as prisoners to Aristotimus.’ These words got them going; they took the oath, and, having set out without delay, they successfully carried out Nelematus’s instructions. When one of the Magi by subterfuge got possession of the Persian throne, and Otanes, one of the leading men in the kingdom, heard of it and discovered the fraud, he conferred with six other leading men in the state, and told them that it was for them to rid the kingdom of the tyranny of this Magus. When one of them asked for time, Darius, one of the six who had been called together by Otanes, got up and said: ‘Either we go at once and put this business through, or I shall go and lay information against the lot of you.’ So with one accord they got up, and succeeded in carrying out their plan before anyone had time to repent. Similar to these two cases also was the method the Aetolians adopted in order to kill Nabis, the Spartan tyrant; for they commissioned their fellow- citizen, Alexamenes, to go with thirty horse and two hundred foot ostensibly to the assistance of Nabis, communicated the secret only to Alexamenes, and told the rest to obey him on each and every point under pain of banishment. So Alexamenes went to Sparta and never mentioned the commission entrusted to him till he was ready to carry it out; with the result that he succeeded in killing Nabis. These folk, then, by adopting these methods, have avoided the dangers which attend the planning of a conspiracy; and those who follow their example will always avoid them.

{Their practicability}

That anyone can do as they did, I propose now to prove by citing the case of Piso, of whom mention has already been made. Piso was a man of very high standing and great repute, and was intimate with Nero, who had considerable confidence in him. Nero used frequently to dine with him in his gardens. Piso, therefore, could have made friends with men who in mentality, courage and inclination were of the right kind to carry out such a scheme, for to a man of standing this is quite an easy matter; and while Nero was in his gardens, he could have told them of the business and with suitable words got them to do what there would have been no time for them to refuse and what could not but have succeeded. Hence if we inquire into conspiracies in general, but few will be found that could not have been carried out in the same way. Ordinarily, however, men pay but little attention to the affairs of the world and so make frequently the gravest blunders, especially in matters which lie outside the ordinary run of things, as this does.

{Further precautions}

A plot, then, should never be divulged unless one is driven to it and it is ripe for execution, and if you, perforce, have to divulge it, it should be told to but one other person, and this a man of whom you have had very considerable experience, or else one who is actuated by the same motives as you are. To find such a man is far easier than to find several, and for this very reason is less dangerous. Moreover, should you, in fact, make a mistake, you have here a chance of protecting yourself, which is not the case where many conspirators are involved. For I have heard a wise man say that you can talk about anything to one person alone, since, unless you allow yourself to be persuaded to commit yourself in writing, one man’s ‘yes’ will be worth just as much as the other man’s ‘no’. And against writing anything down everybody should be on his guard as against a rock, for nothing is more likely to convict you than is your own handwriting. Plautianus, having made up his mind to kill the emperor, Severus, and his son, Antoninus, entrusted the secret to Saturninus, the tribune, who wanted to inform against him instead of doing what he wished, but was afraid that, when he brought the charge, more credence might be given to Plautianus than to himself. So he asked for something in writing that might serve as evidence of the commission entrusted to him. Blinded by ambition, Plautianus gave it him, with the result that the tribune brought the accusation and he was convicted. Yet without this commitment in writing and certain other evidence against him, Plautianus would have got the better of him, so brazen was he in denying the charge. There is then some chance of getting off when a charge is brought by but one person provided you cannot be convicted by a written document or other evidence telling against you, which one should take care not to provide.

In the Pisonian conspiracy there was a woman called Epicharis, who had formerly been Nero’s mistress. Since she thought it would help to get a captain of some triremes which served as Nero’s guard to join the conspirators, she told him of the plot, but not who the conspirators were. Subsequently, when the captain broke his word and charged her with it to Nero, Epicharis denied the charge with such vehemence that Nero could not make up his mind and let her off. There are, then, in communicating a plot to a single other person two dangers: the first is that he may accuse you of his own accord; and the second is that he may get arrested on suspicion or because there is some evidence against him, and accuse you when convicted and constrained by torture to do so. In both these cases the danger is not irremediable; for in the first case you can deny the charge and allege that he made it because he hated you; and in the second you can deny it, alleging that under force he has been compelled to tell a lie.

{Unpremeditated assassination}

The wisest thing, therefore, is not to tell anybody what you are about, but to act in accordance with the examples given above; or, if you have to tell somebody, not to tell more than one, in which case, though the danger will be somewhat greater, it will not be so great as if you had told it to many. The case is somewhat the same when necessity constrains you to do that to a prince which you see that the prince is about to do to you, for your need is then so great that it does not give you time to think of precautions. A necessity of this kind almost always leads to the end desired; and, to prove it, I propose to give just two examples.

Among the chief friends and intimates which the emperor, Commodus, had, were Laetus and Eclectus, who were in charge of his praetorian troops, and for one of his principal concubines or lady friends he had Marcia; and because they sometimes reproached him for sullying alike his person and his imperial position by his behaviour, he decided to put them to death, and made out a list on which he wrote the names of Marcia, Laetus and Eclectus, and several others whom he proposed on the following night to put to death. This list he put under the pillow of his bed. Having gone to wash himself, a favourite little boy of his was romping about the room and on the bed when he came across the list, and, having gone outside with it in his hand, met Marcia, who took it from him, and, having read it and noted its contents, sent at once for Laetus and Eclectus. All three of them realizing the danger in which they stood, decided to forestall it; so, without wasting any unnecessary time, they killed Commodus the following night.

Again, the emperor Antoninus Caracalla, when with his army in Mesopotamia, had as his prefect, Macrinus, who was more of a civilian than a soldier; and, as is usually the case with princes who are not good, he was for ever afraid that others should not act towards him as he thought he deserved. So Antoninus wrote to Maternianus, a friend of his in Rome, to request him to inquire of the astrologers whether anybody was aspiring to become emperor, and to advise him accordingly. Maternianus, therefore, wrote him that Macrinus was the man who had this idea in mind, but the letter fell into the hands of Macrinus before it got to the emperor, and, in consequence, Macrinus saw that it was necessary either to kill him before a further letter came from Rome, or to be killed; so he instructed Martialis, a centurion who was devoted to him and whose brother Antoninus had killed a few days before, to assassinate the emperor, a commission which he carried out successfully.

Hence we see that when necessity becomes so urgent that it leaves no time for delay, it produces much the same effect as does the method adopted by Nelematus of Epirus, which I have described above. We see, too, that what I have said almost at the beginning of this discourse, also holds good, namely, that threats do more harm to princes and are more likely to result in conspiracies than the actual infliction of injuries. Against threats, therefore, a prince should be on his guard; for either he should make a fuss of men or should make sure they will do him no harm, but in no case should he put them in such a position that the only courses which appear open to them are either to get killed or to kill somebody else.

{Dangers arising from a change of plan}

As to the dangers which occur during the carrying out of a plot, these are due either to a change of plan, or to lack of courage on the part of the person who is to carry it out, or to the operative’s making; some mistake owing to carelessness, or to failure to complete the job in that there remain alive some of those who were to have been killed. I would here point out, therefore, that nothing so perturbs and interferes with anything undertaken by men as does their having suddenly and without due notice to change their plan and to give up that laid down at the start. And, if such a change of plan anywhere gives rise to disorder, it is in military operations and in affairs such as those of which we are speaking; because in a business of this kind what it is essential to do first and foremost is to get clearly into the heads of those concerned the part which each of them has to play, and, if men have for several days been picturing to themselves a certain course of action and a certain plan, and this is suddenly changed, it is impossible but that it should throw everything out of gear and spoil the whole scheme. So that it is much better to carry out the original plan, even if one sees in it certain inconveniences, than it is to cancel it and thereby to involve oneself in a host of inconveniences. This applies to cases in which there is no time to draw up a new plan, for, if there is time, a man can arrange matters as he pleases.

The conspiracy of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici is familiar to all. According to the plan that had been given out, they were to be invited to dinner with the Cardinal of St George, and at the dinner were to be assassinated. Those who were to kill them, those who were to seize the palace and those who were to run about the city calling on the people to free themselves, had all been detailed. It happened that, when the Pazzi, the Medici and the Cardinal were attending a solemn function in the cathedral church of Florence, it became known that Giuliano was not going to dine with them that day; so the conspirators got together and decided that what they had been going to do in the house of the Medici should be done in the church. This upset the whole plan, for Giovambatista da Montesecco declined to take part in the murder, since he was not going to do it in church, he said. So they had to find new operatives and to redistribute the parts assigned, and, since there was no time for them to get clear as to their parts, they made such blunders in carrying it out that they were overcome.

{Failure due to irresolution}

Irresolution on the part of operatives in doing their job, is due either to human respect or to personal cowardice. Such is the majesty and the respect inspired by the presence of a prince that it may easily damp the resolution of an operative or terrify him. When Marius was taken prisoner by the Minturnians a slave was sent to kill him, but, so overawed was he by the presence of such a man and by the recollection of what his name stood for, that he lost courage and hadn’t the strength to kill him. If, then, such power appertains to a man who is chained up in prison and overwhelmed with misfortune, how much greater must be that of a prince who is not thus encumbered, but is there in his majesty, wearing his robes and decorations, surrounded by pomp and by his courtiers. Such pomp as this may well affright you, or again the graciousness of his welcome may soften you. Certain persons were conspiring against Sitalces, king of Thrace, had settled the day on which the deed was to be done, and had got to the place assigned at which the prince then was; yet none of them ventured to attack him, so that at length they went away without trying to do anything and without quite knowing what had prevented them, each laying the blame on the other. They made the same mistake more than once, so that in the end the conspiracy was discovered and they were punished for a crime which they could have committed but were reluctant to commit. Two of his brothers conspired against Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, and used as an intermediary Giannes, a priest and a cantor in the duke’s employ. Several times at their request he got the duke to meet them, so that it lay in their power to kill him; in spite of which not one of them dared to do it, so that, the plot being discovered, they suffered the penalty of their wickedness and their want of prudence. Such negligence could not have been due to anything except their being frightened by the presence of the prince or humbled by some gracious act of his.

{Failure due to perturbation of mind} Inconveniences in the carrying out of a conspiracy are due to mistakes caused either by lack of prudence or by lack of courage, for both these two things may befall you and cause you such confusion of mind that you say and do what you oughtn’t to say or do. That men do get thus overwhelmed and confused cannot be better illustrated than by what Titus Livy tells us of Alexamenes, the Aetolian, who had made up his mind to kill Nabis the Spartan, of whom we have already spoken. When the time came to do it, he explained to his men what it was they had to do, and, says Livy, ‘pulled himself together, for his mind had become confused by thinking of so great a matter’. It is, indeed, impossible, that any man, even though he be strongminded, familiar with death and accustomed to using the sword, should not become confused. Hence men should be chosen who have had experience in doing such deeds, and one should entrust them to no one else, brave as he may be thought to be. For when it comes to doing big things of which a man has had no previous experience, no one can say for certain what will happen. This confusion, for instance, might be such as to cause you to let the weapon fall from your hand, or to let slip some word which would have precisely the same effect. Lucilla, the sister of Commodus, arranged with Quintianus to kill him. Quintianus lay in wait for Commodus at the entrance to the amphitheatre, and, going up to him with a naked dagger, greeted him with the words: ‘The senate sends you this!’, words which led to his being arrested before he had lowered his arm to strike. Messer Antonio de Volterra was deputed, as we have already said, to kill Lorenzo de’ Medici. On coming up to him he said: ‘Ah, traitor!’, an exclamation which saved Lorenzo’s life and ruined the conspiracy.

{Conspiracies directed against more than one prince}

It is not easy to do the thing perfectly when a conspiracy is directed against one ruler, for the reasons alleged, and still less is it easy to do it perfectly when a conspiracy is directed against two. On the contrary, it is so difficult that it is almost impossible for the conspiracy to succeed. For it is almost impossible to do similar actions in different places at one and the same time, and you cannot perform them at different times if you do not want one to spoil the other. Hence, if to conspire against one prince is a doubtful, dangerous and imprudent undertaking, to conspire against two is altogether foolish and frivolous. Were it not for my respect for the historian I should never have thought that what Herodian says of Plautianus were possible, namely, that he should have commissioned the same person, Saturninus the centurion, to kill both Severus and Antoninus who dwelt in different places, for the thing is so utterly unreasonable that nothing short of his authority would make me believe it.

Certain Athenian youths conspired against Diocles and Hippias, tyrants ruling in Athens. They killed Diocles, but Hippias escaped and avenged him. Chion and Leonides of Heraclea, disciples of Plato, conspired against the tyrants, Clearchus and Satyrus. They killed Clearchus, but Satyrus remained alive to avenge him. The Pazzi, whom we have mentioned more than once, only succeeded in killing Giuliano. Hence no one should engage in conspiracies against more than one ruler since he will do not good either to himself or to his country or to anybody at all. On the contrary, those who survive, will become more insupportable and more bitter, as Florence, Athens and Heraclea, to which I have already alluded, found out. True, the conspiracy which Pelopidas formed for the liberation of Thebes, his fatherland, involved all these difficulties, and yet was successful; for Pelopidas conspired not only against two tyrants, but against ten, and not only was he an outsider to whom access to the tyrants presented a difficulty, but he was a rebel. None the less, he was able to get into Thebes, to kill the tyrants and to liberate his country. Actually, however, it was with the assistance of Charon, counsellor to the tyrants, that he did all this, for it was through him that he gained easy access to do the deed. Nor should anyone nevertheless emulate his example; for it was an impossible undertaking and a marvellous thing that it succeeded. It was also, as all writers are agreed who have mentioned it, a rare and almost unparalleled thing.{57}

{Failure due to false impressions}

The carrying out of a plot may be ruined by a false impression or by an unforeseen accident which occurs in the course of it. On the very morning on which Brutus and the other conspirators had decided to kill Caesar, it happened that he held a long conversation with Gaius Pompilius Lenas, who was one of the conspirators, and when the others saw him talking for so long, they wondered whether the said Pompilius was not telling Caesar of the conspiracy, and were on the point of killing him there and then, without waiting for him to come into the senate. They would, indeed, have done this, had the argument not come to an end and had they not then been reassured when they saw Caesar gave no sign of unusual emotion. False impressions of this kind should be taken into account and due attention be paid to them, if one would be prudent; the more so in that it is easy to get such false impressions. For, when a man has a bad conscience, he readily believes that people are talking about him, and a remark which is irrelevant may disturb your equanimity and make you think that it has bearing on your business, and this causes you either to give the conspiracy away by running off, or to muddle it by acting before the proper time. And the more there are who are in the know, the more likely is this to happen.

{Failure due to unforeseen accidents}

As to accidents, since they cannot be foreseen, the only thing one can do is to give examples showing how cautious men ought to be in regard to them. Lucio Belanti of Siena, of whom mention has already been made, was so indignant with Pandolfo, who had taken away the daughter he had previously given him in marriage, that he decided to kill him, and chose the occasion as follows. Pandolfo used to go daily to visit a sick relative, and, in doing so, passed by Lucio’s house. Lucio, having noticed this, arranged for his conspirators to be ready in his house to kill Pandolfo as he was going by. He placed them inside the doorway with their arms, and stationed one of them at the window ready to give the signal when Pandolfo was to pass by the doorway, whereupon they were at once to issue forth. It so happened that, when Pandolfo came along and the signal had been given, Pandolfo met a friend who stopped him, and some of those who were with him went on ahead, saw what was happening, heard the clatter of arms and so discovered the trap; with the result that Pandolfo escaped and Lucio and his accomplices had to fly from Siena. Thus this accidental meeting interfered with the business in hand and caused Lucio’s scheme to end in disaster. Since accidents, such as these, are of rare occurrence, it is impossible to prescribe any remedy. What one must do is to consider everything that is likely to happen, and to provide accordingly.

{Dangers subsequent to a conspiracy}

It remains now for us to discuss the dangers that may occur after a conspiracy has been successfully carried out. There is but one. It is that someone may be left alive who will avenge the death of the prince. There may, for instance, remain brothers or sons or other supporters to whom the principality was expected to come. Survival of those who may wreak vengeance may be due either to your negligence or to the causes mentioned above. Thus, when Giovanni Andrea da Lampognano and his accomplices had killed the Duke of Milan, there remained one of his sons and two of his brothers, who in due course came to avenge his death. In cases such as these the conspirators have an excuse, for there is nothing they can do about it; but when it is owing to lack of prudence or to their negligence that someone is left alive, they have in that case no excuse. Some conspirators who were citizens of Forli, killed Count Girolamo, their Lord, and took prisoner his wife and his children, who were little ones. It seemed to them, however, that their lives would scarce be safe unless they could get hold of the citadel, which its governor declined to hand over. So Mistress Catherine, as the countess was called, promised the conspirators that, if they would let her go to the citadel, she would arrange for it to be handed over to them. Meanwhile they were to keep her children as hostages. On this understanding the conspirators let her go to the citadel, from the walls of which, when she got inside, she reproached them with killing her husband and threatened them with vengeance in every shape and form. And to convince them that she did not mind about her children she exposed her sexual parts to them and said she was still capable of bearing more. The conspirators, dumbfounded, realized their mistake too late, and paid the penalty for their lack of prudence by suffering perpetual banishment.

But of all the dangers that may ensue after a successful conspiracy there is none more inevitable or more to be dreaded than when the people are well disposed to the prince you have killed; for in such a case, since there is no remedy to which the conspirators can have recourse, there is no chance of their ever obtaining security. Caesar is a case in point, for he was avenged by the people of Rome who were friendlily disposed towards him; and of the conspirators, after they had been driven out of Rome, one and all were killed at various times and in various places.

{Conspiracies against one’s country}

Conspiracies against one’s country are less dangerous to those who take part in them than are conspiracies against princes, since fewer dangers occur in the planning or them than in the latter case; in carrying them out they are the same; and afterwards there are none. There are not many dangers in planning the conspiracy because a citizen can scheme to obtain power without revealing his mind or his plan to anybody else, and, if his schemes are not interfered with, success will attend his undertaking; while if they should be interfered with by some law or other, he must bide his time and look for some other opening. This applies to a republic which is to some extent corrupt, for, since in one that is not corrupt no starting on evil courses there finds a place, no citizen is likely to harbour such thoughts. There are, then, all manner of ways and means of which citizens who aspire to a principality can avail themselves without running any risk of getting into trouble, alike because a republic is slower to take action than is a prince, is less suspicious, and for this reason less cautious, and because it has more respect for citizens of standing, and, in consequence, the latter are more daring and more inclined to act contrary to its interests. Everybody has read Sallust’s account of the conspiracy of Catiline, and is aware that Catiline not only remained in Rome after the conspiracy was discovered, but attended the senate, where he made opprobrious remarks about the senate and about the consuls, so great was the respect which this city had for its citizens. Nor, when he had left Rome and was already in touch with the armies, would Lentulus and others have been arrested if they had not had in their possession letters in their own hand which plainly showed their complicity.

Again, when Hanno, one of the leading citizens in Carthage, who hoped to set up a tyranny, had arranged to poison the whole senate at the marriage- feast of one of his daughters, and afterwards to make himself prince, all the senate did, when it got to hear of the business, was to pass a law restricting the amount to be spent on banquets and marriages, so great was the respect they had for a man in his position.

On the other hand, it may well be that in carrying out a conspiracy against one’s country there is more difficulty and the dangers are greater, for in a conspiracy aimed at so many people your own forces will scarce suffice; and not everybody has an army at his disposal, as had Caesar, Agathocles, Cleomenes and such-like, who have at one stroke subjugated their country by means of the forces they commanded. For to such folk the way is easy enough and safe enough; but others who have not such forces at their disposal, must give effect to their designs either by means of deceit and artifice or with the help of foreign troops. The use of deceit and artifice is illustrated in the case of Pisistratus, the Athenian, who by his victory over the Megarians gained favour with the people. One morning he appeared in public, wounded, said that the nobility out of envy had attacked him, and asked that he might go about with an armed force for the protection of his person. This being authorized, he had no difficulty in arrogating to himself such great power that he became tyrant of Athens. Pandolfo Petrucci, on his return to Siena with other exiles, was given command of the guard in the Piazza, a routine business which others had refused; yet this armed force in course of time acquired for him such repute that he became before long a prince. Many others have adopted other devices and other methods and in course of time and without danger have achieved their aim.

Those who have conspired to get control of their country by means of their own forces or with foreign armies have met with varied success according as fortune has favoured them or not. Catiline, whom we mentioned above, perished in the attempt. Hanno, of whom also we made mention, having failed to succeed by using poison, armed several thousands of his partisans, and both he and they were slain. Some of the principal citizens of Thebes called in a Spartan army to help them, and set up a tyranny in that city. If, then, we inquire into all the conspiracies men have made against their country, it will be found that none of them, or but few, have been suppressed while the plot was being contrived, but that all of them have either succeeded or been ruined when it came to carrying them out. Nor, when successful, do they entail any subsequent dangers other than those which pertain to a principality by its very nature. For, given that a man has become a tyrant, he is faced with the dangers which tyranny naturally and normally involves, and to avert them has no remedies other than those that we have already discussed.

{The use of poison}

This is all that needs to be said about conspiracies, and if I have taken account of those in which the sword and not poison has been used, it is because they are all of one and the same pattern. It is true that the use of poison is more dangerous owing to its being more uncertain, for not everybody has the commodity, so that those who have it must needs be consulted and the necessity of consulting others means danger to yourself. Again, for a variety of reasons, a poisoned drink may not prove fatal, as those discovered who were to kill Commodus, for, on his throwing up the poison they had given him, they were forced to strangle him if they wanted him to die.

{Tactics to be used in suppressing a conspiracy}

There is nothing, then, more inimical to princes than a conspiracy. For, when a conspiracy is formed against them, either they set killed or they incur infamy; since, if it succeeds, they die, and if it is discovered and they kill the conspirators, the conspiracy is apt to be regarded as a device on the part of the prince whereby to cloak his avarice and his cruelty vis-à-vis the lives and property of those he has put to death. I must not, therefore, neglect to warn that prince or that republic who knows that a conspiracy has been planned, to endeavour to discover its precise character before they take punitive action, and to compare carefully the strength and standing of the conspirators with their own; and, should they find it large and powerful, to take no notice of it until they have at their disposal enough forces to crush it. To act otherwise is but to court disaster. Hence they should practise dissimulation as best they can, lest the conspirators, finding themselves discovered, be driven of necessity to take immediate action regardless of the result.

The Romans afford us an example of this. Two legions of soldiers were left to guard Capua against the Samnites, as we have pointed out elsewhere. Those who were in command of these legions conspired together to reduce the Capuans to subjection. When this came to be known in Rome, Rutilus, a new consul, was commissioned to look into the matter. To keep the conspirators quiet, he made public the senate confirmation of the Capuan legions’ lodging quarters. The troops believed this, and, since there seemed to them to be plenty of time to carry out their plan, they made no attempt to hurry things. So matters stood until they came to realize that the consul had separated one legion from the other, which caused them to grow suspicious, to come out into the open and to give orders for their scheme to be put into execution. Nor can there be a better example than this from whichever point of view we look at it, for we see how slow men are to act when they think they have time, and how quick to act when the need becomes urgent. Nor yet can a prince or a republic that wants to postpone the discovery of a conspiracy in its own interests do better than artfully to provide the conspirators with an opportunity at some future date, so that, while they await it in the belief that there is no hurry, that prince or that republic may have time to arrange for their punishment.

Those who have acted otherwise have but hastened their own downfall, as the Duke of Athens did, and Guglielmo de’ Pazzi. When the duke became tyrant of Florence and heard that a conspiracy had been formed against him, he had one of the conspirators arrested but did not inquire further into the matter, with the result that the rest at once flew to arms and deprived him of the government. When Guglielmo was commissioner in the Val di Chiana in 1501 and learned that a conspiracy in favour of the Virelli had been formed in Arezzo whereby the Florentines were to be deprived of that town, he went at once to that city, and without considering either the strength of the conspirators or his own and without having any forces in readiness, on the advice of the bishop, his son, he had one of the conspirators arrested. After the arrest, the remaining conspirators at once took up arms, took the town from the Florentines and Guglielmo became a prisoner instead of a commissioner.

But when conspiracies are weak they both can, and ought, to be suppressed without further ado. Nor should either of the two following expedients be adopted, though one is almost the exact opposite of the other. One was used by the aforesaid Duke of Athens, who to show that he believed the Florentines to be well disposed towards him, put to death a man who had told him of a conspiracy. The other was adopted by Dion, the Syracusan, who, to discover the intentions of someone of whom he was suspicious, allowed Callippus, whom he trusted, to pretend to be forming a conspiracy. Both these expedients led to disaster, for the first discouraged informers and encouraged would-be conspirators, and the second made it an easy matter to compass Dion’s death by means of the very conspiracy of which he was the real head, as he learned by experience, for Callippus was now able without further ado to plot against Dion, and he plotted so well that he deprived him both of his state and of his life.

Book Three, Discourses 7–9: The Need of Adaptation to Environment

Book Three, Discourse 7. How it comes about that Changes from Liberty to Servitude and from Servitude to Liberty sometimes occur without Bloodshed and sometimes abound in it

Some perchance may wonder how it comes about that of many revolutions involving a change from freedom to tyranny or the other way about, some are accompanied by bloodshed and others not. For it is plain from history that in such revolutions sometimes vast numbers of men get killed, and that in others nobody at all gets hurt, as happened in the change which Rome made from kingship to rule by consuls, for in it no one was banished except the Tarquins, and nobody else at all got hurt.

The answer is that it all depends upon whether the change in form of government is or is not brought about by violence; for when it is accompanied by violence it is inevitable that many should get hurt, and then of necessity those who in their downfall have been injured seek revenge, and this desire for vengeance gives rise to bloodshed and loss of life; but when that form of government has been brought into being by the common consent of a whole peoplea which has made it great, there is no reason why, when the said people as a whole meets its downfall, they should harm anyone except its head. This was the case with Rome’s government and with the expulsion of the Tarquins. It was also the case with the government of the Medici in Florence, which, when it fell in 1494, harmed nobody but the Medici themselves.

Revolutions of this kind, therefore, are not attended with much danger. Those, on the other hand, are extremely dangerous which are brought about by men who are out for vengeance, and have invariably been of such a kind as to appal those who read of them, to say the least. Since of such revolutions there are plenty of instances in history, I propose to leave it at that.

Book Three, Discourse 8. He who would transform a Republic should take Due Note of the Governed

That a bad citizen cannot do much harm in a republic that is not corrupt has been shown in a previous discourse, and, in addition to the reasons there adduced,58 this conclusion is confirmed by the case of Spurius Cassius and that of Manlius Capitolinus. The former, an ambitious man, desirous of acquiring extraordinary authority in Rome, ingratiated himself with the plebs by conferring on them many benefits, such as dividing among them the lands which the Romans had taken from the Hernici. When the city fathers discovered his ambitious projects and made them known, he became so suspect that, on his addressing the populace and offering to give them the money accruing from the sale of the corn which the public had caused to be brought from Sicily, they refused it outright, since it seemed to them that Spurius was offering it them as the price of their liberty. Whereas, had the populace been corrupt, they would have accepted the money, and would have laid open the way to tyranny instead of closing it.

The example of Manlius Capitolinus is even more remarkable; for from his case it may be seen how the inordinate desire to rule afterwards cancels out virtues of mind and body and services rendered to one’s country, however great they may be. This desire, it is clear, was in his case aroused by the envy he felt for Camillus on whom great honours had been bestowed, and in him it begat so great a mental blindness that without pausing to reflect on the mode of life prevailing in the city, or to inquire with what kind of subjects he had to deal and whether they were yet averse to accept a bad form of government, he set about raising tumults in Rome alike against the senate and against his country’s laws. This incident shows how perfect the city then was and how good the material of which it was composed; for in his case none of the nobles, who were usually very keen to defend one another, rose to support him, nor did any of his relations make a move on his behalf; nor yet, though it was customary in the case of an accused person for his relations to appear in mourning, clad in black, and all of them sorrowing, so as to evoke sympathy in favour of the accused, did anyone at all appear in Manlius’s case. The tribunes of the plebs, who were wont always to look favourably on causes which appeared likely to benefit the populace, and to promote them the more vigorously the more inimical they were to the nobles, in this case joined with the nobles in suppressing a common pest. The Roman populace, looking eagerly to its own interests and sympathetic to projects which might thwart the nobility, in spite of its having been so favourable to Manlius, none the less when the tribunes cited him to appear, and referred his case to the judgement of the populace, this same populace, become now the judge of its defender, paid no attention to this, but condemned him to death.

Hence I do not think that there is any example in the history we are considering, capable of showing more clearly than this, how sound were all the institutions of that republic, in view of the fact that not a soul in that city was disposed to defend a citizen who was replete with virtue of every kind and alike in public and in private had done very many things worthy of commendation. For with all of them love of country weighed more than any other consideration, and they looked upon the present dangers for which he was responsible as of much greater importance than his former merits; with the result that they chose he should die in order that they might remain free. ‘Such,’ says Titus Livy, ‘was the fate of a man who would have been illustrious if he had not been born in a free city.’

There are two things here which should be borne in mind. One is that, in order to obtain glory, a man must use different methods in a city that is corrupt from what he would use in one in which political life is still vigorous. The other, which is almost the same as the first, is that in the way they behave, and especially where deeds of moment are concerned, men should take account of the times, and act accordingly.

Those who owing to bad judgement or to their natural inclinations are out of touch with the times are in most cases unfortunate in their life and unsuccessful in their undertakings. But it is otherwise with those who are in accord with the times. From the words of the historian cited above, it may without hesitation be inferred that, had Manlius been born in the days of Marius or Sulla, when the material was corrupt and it would have been possible to impress on it the form to which his ambition looked, he would have met with the same success that attended the actions of Marius and Sulla and others who, after them, aspired to tyranny. And in the same way, had Sulla and Marius lived in the time of Manlius, they would have been crushed at the very outset of their careers. For a man can easily by his behaviour and his evil devices begin to corrupt the populace in a city, but it is impossible for him to live long enough to corrupt it to such an extent that he himself shall reap the fruits. And, even if it were possible for him to live long enough to do this, it would still be impossible for him to succeed, for men are so impatient in the way they carry on that they cannot restrain their passions for very long. Consequently they make mistakes in handling their affairs, especially when they are too eager; with the result that, either through impatience or through mistakes, they are likely to take premature action and to meet with disaster.

If anyone, then, wants to seize supreme power in a republic and to impose on it a bad form of government, it is essential that he should find there a material which has in course of time become disordered, and that this disorder shall have been introduced little by little and in one generation after another. And this, as we have remarked in a previous discourse, must of necessity come about unless that republic be given fresh life by the example of good men or by fresh legislation be brought back to what it was at the start.

Manlius, therefore, would have been an exceptional and a remarkable man, had he been born in a corrupt city. Hence citizens who in republics take up any enterprise, whether in favour of liberty or with a view to tyranny, should take account of the subjects with which they have to deal and on this should base their estimate of the difficulties their undertaking involves; for it is just as difficult and dangerous to try to free a people that wants to remain servile as it is to enslave a people that wants to remain free.

Since I have remarked above that in human affairs men should study the nature of the times and act accordingly, of this we shall speak at length in the next chapter.

Book Three, Discourse 9. That it behoves one to adapt Oneself to the Times if one wants to enjoy Continued Good Fortune

I have often thought that the reason why men are sometimes unfortunate, sometimes fortunate, depends upon whether their behaviour is in conformity with the times.a For one sees that in what they do some men are impetuous, others look about them and are cautious; and that, since in both cases they go to extremes and are unable to go about things in the right way, in both cases they make mistakes. On the other hand, he is likely to make fewer mistakes and to prosper in his fortune when circumstances accord with his conduct, as I have said, and one always proceeds as the force of nature compels one.

Everybody knows how Fabius Maximus, when in command of the army, proceeded circumspectly and with a caution far removed from the impetuosity and boldness characteristic of the Roman; and by good luck this sort of thing just fitted the circumstances. For Hannibal had arrived in Italy, a young man flushed with success, and had twice routed the Roman people, so that this republic had lost almost all its best troops and was alarmed. Hence it could not have been more fortunate than to have had a general who by his slowness and his caution held the enemy at bay. Nor could Fabius have met with circumstances more suited to his ways; and it is to this that his fame was due.

That in so doing Fabius behaved naturally and not by choice is shown by the fact that, when Scipio wanted to go to Africa with his armies to bring the war to an end, Fabius was much against this, since he could not get out of his ways and habits; so that, if it had been left to him, Hannibal would still be in Italy, for he did not see that times had changed, and that new methods of warfare were called for. So that, if Fabius had been king of Rome, he might easily have lost this war, since he was incapable of altering his methods according as circumstances changed. Since, however, he was born in a republic where there were diverse citizens with diverse dispositions, it came about that, just as it had a Fabius, who was the best man to keep the war going when circumstances required this, so later it had a Scipio at a time suited to its victorious consummation.

For this reason a republic has a fuller life and enjoys good fortune for a longer time than a principality, since it is better able to adapt itself to diverse circumstances owing to the diversity found among its citizens than a prince can do. For a man who is accustomed to act in one particular way, never changes, as we have said. Hence, when times change and no longer suit his ways, he is inevitably ruined.

Piero Soderini, whom we have mentioned several times,59 conducted all his affairs in his good-natured and patient way. So long as circumstances suited the way in which he carried on, both he and his country prospered. But when afterwards there came a time which required him to drop his patience and his humility, he could not bring himself to it; so that both he and his country were ruined. Pope Julius II during the whole course of his pontificate acted with impetuosity and dash, and, since the times suited him well, he succeeded in all his undertakings; but had other times come which called for other counsels, he would of necessity have been undone, for he could not have changed his ways or his method of handling affairs.

There are two reasons why we cannot change our ways. First, it is impossible to go against what nature inclines us to. Secondly, having got on well by adopting a certain line of conduct, it is impossible to persuade men that they can get on well by acting otherwise. It thus comes about that a man’s fortune changes, for she changes his circumstances but he does not change his ways. The downfall of cities also comes about because institutions in republics do not change with the times, as we have shown at length already,60 but change very slowly because it is more painful to change them since it is necessary to wait until the whole republic is in a state of upheaval; and for this it is not enough that one man alone should change his own procedure.

Since we have mentioned Fabius Maximus who held Hannibal at bay, it seems to me appropriate in the next chapter to discuss whether a general who is determined at all costs to force the enemy to fight, can be prevented by the enemy from doing this.

Book Three, Discourses 10–15: Sundry Remarks on Strategy, Tactics, New Devices and Discipline

Book Three, Discourse 10. That a General cannot avoid an Engagement if the Enemy is determined to force him to it at All Costs

‘Gaius Sulpicius, the dictator, when waging war with the Gauls, was unwilling to try his fortune in an engagement with an enemy whose position time and an awkward situation was steadily making worse.’ When there occurs an error which all men, or most men, are liable to make, it is not a bad thing, I think, to warn them often against it. Since, therefore, as I have frequently pointed out, the way in which important matters are dealt with today does not come up to the standard of the ancients, it does not seem to me superfluous at this juncture to point it out once again. For, if there be any way in which there has been a departure from ancient customs, it is especially so in military matters, in which none of the things the ancients esteemed so highly are now done. This inconvenience is due to republics and princes having entrusted such matters to other people. To avoid danger they themselves keep clear of military operations and, though one does sometimes find a king in these days sallying forth in person, I do not on this account think that it leads him to do much else that is worthy of commendation. For when they actually do engage in military operations, they do it for the sake of display and not for any praiseworthy reason. True, in that they occasionally review their troops and reserve to themselves the title of commander, they make mistakes of less moment than do republics, especially Italian republics, which rely on others and understand nothing which has to do with war, and yet in their desire to look like a prince in the eyes of the army, make decisions, and, in doing so, commit innumerable blunders.

And although some of these blunders I have discussed elsewhere, I cannot here be silent about one which is very important. When these idle princes or effeminate republics are sending one of their generals on an expedition, it seems to them that the wisest thing they can commission him to do, is on no account to engage in open battle, but, on the contrary, above all else to be on his guard against an engagement; for they think that in so doing they are emulating the prudence of Fabius Maximus who, by putting off an engagement, saved the Roman state from destruction; wherein they overlook the fact that, more often than not, such a commission is nonsensical or dangerous. The point one has to bear in mind here is that a general who proposes to remain in the field cannot avoid battle if the enemy is determined to force one on him at all costs. Hence what such a commission amounts to is just this: ‘Join battle at the enemy’s behest, not at your own.’ For, if one wants to remain in the field and not join battle, the only safe thing to do is to put at least fifty miles between oneself and the enemy, and then to have good scouts so that, should he come your way, you mayhave time to get farther off. Another alternative in this case is to shut yourself up in a city. But both courses are extremely harmful. For the first leaves your country at the mercy of the enemy, and a valiant prince would sooner try his fortune in battle than prolong a war at such cost to his subjects. While the second alternative is manifestly that of a lost cause, for what it comes to is that, when you have got your army into a city, you may be besieged, and before long to be reduced by the pangs of hunger to surrender. Hence to avoid battle in either of these two ways is extremely hurtful. The plan adopted by Fabius Maximus of occupying strong positions is good so long as you have so valianta an army that the enemy does not dare come and seek you out in your position of vantage. Nor can it be said that Fabius avoided battle, but rather that he preferred to fight when he had the advantage. For, if Hannibal had gone to seek him out, he would have awaited him and made a day of it. But Hannibal did not dare to fight with him on these terms. So that it was as much Hannibal who avoided battle as Fabius; but, if either had determined at all costs to fight, the other would have had to adopt one of three courses, i.e. either to adopt one of the two courses mentioned above, or else to run away.

That what I am saying is true can be clearly seen from a host of cases, and especially in the war the Romans had with Philip of Macedon, the father of Perseus. For, when Philip was attacked by the Romans, he decided not to join battle, and, to avoid it, did at first what Fabius Maximus did in Italy: posted himself with his army on top of a mountain where he erected fortifications, thinking that the Romans would not dare to go and seek him out. But they did go, and, having fought with him, drove him from the mountain, and he, being powerless to resist, fled with the greater part of his forces. What saved him from being utterly undone was the impossible country, which prevented the Romans from following him up. Philip, therefore, still desirous of avoiding battle and being encamped in the neighbourhood of the Romans, had to get away; and, having learned by experience that, to avoid battle, it is not enough to take up a position on top of a mountain, and being averse to shutting himself up in towns, decided to take the remaining course and to put many miles between himself and the Roman camp. Hence, when the Romans were in one province, he moved to another, and, in like manner, whenever the Romans moved out, he moved in. But when at length he came to see that by prolonging the war in this way his situation was getting worse, and that, now by him, now by the enemy, his subjects were being harassed, he decided to try his fortune in battle. He thus came to an engagement with the Romans, as was proper.

It is useful then not to fight under the conditions in which Fabius’ army found itself, or again in those in which Gaius Sulpicius found himself, i.e. when you have so good an army that the enemy does not dare to come and oust you from your fortified position; or when the enemy is in your country, but without having the footing there that would guarantee provisions. In this case the course adopted is useful for the reasons Livy gives when he says: ‘he was unwilling to try his fortune in an engagement with the enemy so long as time and his adverse situation were daily making the enemy’s position worse’. But under all other conditions battle cannot be avoided without incurring dishonour and danger, for if you run away, as Philip did, it is as bad as being routed, and is the more shameful in that you afford less proof of your virtue. And if he thus succeeded in getting away, another who is not helped by the country may not be so successful as he was.

That Hannibal was a past master in warfare no one will deny. Hence, when he was up against Scipio in Africa, if he had seen any advantage in prolonging the war he would have done so; and peradventure, being a good general and having a good army, he might have done as Fabius did in Italy. But, as he did not do it, it must be supposed that strong grounds impelled him to act thus. For a commander who has an army massed together and sees that for lack of funds or of allies he cannot keep it long in the field, is quite mad if he does not put his fortune to the test before his army has to be disbanded; because, if he waits, he is surely lost; but if he tries, he may succeed.

Another point of importance to be considered here is that one ought, if one is going to lose, to try to acquire glory, and there is more glory in being overcome by force than there is when it is through some other inconvenience that you come to lose. Hannibal must have been constrained by these necessities. On the other hand, should Hannibal have put off giving battle and Scipio had not enough courage to go and attack him in his strong positions, Scipio would have been none the worse for this, since he had already beaten Syphax and acquired so many towns in Africa that his position there was as safe and as comfortable as if he were in Italy. This was not the case with Hannibal when he was up against Fabius, nor with the Gauls when they were up against Sulpicius.

Still less, again, is it possible for him to avoid battle who with his army is attacking a foreign country, for if he wants to get into the enemy’s country, it behoves him when the enemy shows fight, to give battle, and if he takes up his position before a town, he is so much the more obliged to give battle. This happened in our times in the case of Charles, Duke of Burgundy, who, when encamped before Morat, a Swiss town, was attacked and routed by the Swiss; and in the case of the French army which was besieging Novara and was in like manner routed by the Swiss.

Book Three, Discourse 11. That he who has to deal with several Foes, even though he be Weaker than they are, can actually Win, provided he can sustain their First Attack

The power of the tribunes of the plebs in the city of Rome was considerable, which was necessary since otherwise they could not have checked the ambition of the nobility, as we have frequently pointed out;61 and the nobility would in that case have corrupted the republic longbefore they did. Nevertheless, because inherent in everything is its own peculiar malady, as has been said elsewhere, and this gives rise to fresh misfortunes, it is necessary to provide against them by fresh enactments. Hence, when the tribunes grew arrogant in the use of their authority and became a menace alike to the nobility and to the whole of Rome, there would have arisen an inconvenience harmful to Roman liberty if Appius Claudius had not shown how the ambition of the tribunes might be counteracted. This consisted in looking among them for someone who was either timorous or corruptible or devoted to the common good, and who could thus be induced to oppose the will of the rest when they were proposing to do something contrary to the will of the senate. This remedy acted in no small measure as a restraint on the excessive authority of the tribunes and was often of service to Rome.

This leads me on to consider how it sometimes happens that, when many powers are united against a single power, though in combination they are much more powerful than it is, yet more is always to be expected from the single power, though less strong, than from the many even though very strong, for apart from the many advantages which a single power has over the many – and they are countless – there is always this: it will be able by using a little industry to break up the many, and to make what was a strong body, weak. I shall not adduce examples from ancient history, for they would be many, but shall content myself with modern examples which have happened in our own times.

In 1483 all Italy formed a confederation against the Venetians, who, since they had lost everything and their army could no longer hold its own in the field, suborned Signor Ludovico who was ruling in Milan and by means of this managed to obtain terms by which they not only recovered their lost lands, but obtained part of the state of Ferrara. Thus, though they were losing the war, when peace came, they were better off than before.

A few years ago the whole world formed a confederation against France, yet, before the war came to an end, Spain had fallen out with the confederation and made peace on its own account, with the result that the remaining confederates shortly afterwards also had to come to terms with France.

The conclusion to be drawn from this is obvious. If the many make war on the one, the one will come out of it best provided her virtue be such that she can sustain the first attack and await her opportunity by procrastinating. For, should she not be able to do this, a host of dangers may ensue, as happened to Venice in ’08 when, could she have temporized with the French army and have found time to win over one of the states confederated against her, she might have avoided disaster. But since in arms she was not sufficiently stronga to be able to temporize with the enemy, and so had not time to persuade any power to leave the confederation, she was undone. Yet one finds that the Pope, once he had recovered his lost territory, became her ally, and so did Spain; and either of these two princes would have been very glad to help her to save Lombardy so as to prevent the French becoming too powerful in Italy, had they been able to do so. Hence the Venetians, by giving up part of their territories, might have saved the rest; and this would have been a very wise course had it been done in time before the war broke out so that they should not appear to have been driven to it. But after the war had begun it would have been reprehensible, and probably of but little use. Yet, before war broke out, few Venetian citizens saw the danger, and still fewer the remedy; and there was no one to advise them.

But to come back to where we started. The conclusion I draw from this discourse is that, just as the Roman senate found means to save their country from the ambition of the tribunes because there were many tribunes, so any prince who is assailed by many, has a remedy to hand, if he be wise enough to take appropriate steps to break up the confederation.

Book Three, Discourse 12. That a Prudent General should make it absolutely necessary for his own Troops to Fight, but should avoid forcing the Enemy to do so

We have in other discourses shown how useful a part necessity plays in human affairs, and to what glorious deeds it may lead men. As some moral philosophers in their writings have remarked, neither of the two most noble instruments to which man’s nobility is due, his hands and his tongue, would have attained such perfection in their work or have carried man’s works to the height which one can see they have reached, if they had not been driven to it by necessity.62 Since, therefore, army commanders of old were aware of the virtue that lies in necessity, and how steadfast, when necessity drives, the minds of soldiers can become in their resolve to fight, they used every endeavour to put their troops under such constraint and, on the other hand, employed any device that would free the enemy from such constraint. To this end they often left open to the enemy a route they might have closed, and closed a route to their own soldiers which they might have left open. If, then, anyone wants a city to be obstinately defended or an army in the field to fight obstinately, he should, first and foremost, seek to instil this necessity into the minds of those who have to do the fighting.

It follows that a prudent general who has to go and lay siege to a city should base his estimate of how easy or how difficult it is going to be to take it on the knowledge and consideration of the extent to which necessity will constrain the inhabitants to defend it; and, if he find the necessity con straining them to defend it, considerable, should account the siege difficult, but, if otherwise, should account it easy. It is for this reason that towns which have rebelled are more difficult to acquire than they are to acquire in the first instance; for in the first instance they have no cause to expect punishment for having given offence, and so surrender easily; but, since they are aware, when in revolt, of having given offence, and in consequence fear punishment, they become difficult to take. Again, obstinacy of this kind is also aroused by the natural hatred which neighbouring princes and neighbouring republics have for one another; which, in turn, is occasioned by the ambition which moves states to dominate one another, and by their jealousy, especially if they are republics, as was the case in Tuscany, and this rivalry and competition have made it difficult, and will continue to make it difficult, for one to seize the other. If, therefore, one considers carefully what neighbours the city of Florence has and what neighbours the city of Venice has, it is not so extraordinary as many make out that Florence should have spent more on wars and have acquired less than Venice, since it is all due to the towns in the neighbourhood of Venice not being so obstinate in defending themselves as are those in the neighbourhood of Florence. This comes about because the cities abutting on Venetian territory are accustomed to live under a prince, and are not free cities; and cities accustomed to subjection are usually not so particular about changing masters: on the contrary, they are often glad to do so. Hence, though Venice’s neighbours are more powerful than those of Florence, yet, on account of its having found the towns less obstinate, Venice has been able to subdue them more quickly than has Florence, which is surrounded entirely by free cities.

But to return to the main topic of this discourse. When a general is attacking a town he should endeavour with all diligence to relieve its defenders of the necessity we have been discussing, and so of their obstinacy; by promising them pardon if they are afraid of punishment, and, if they fear for their liberty, by explaining that no attack is being made on the common good, but only on a few ambitious citizens. This has often facilitated the attack on, and the taking of, towns. And, though such false colours are easily seen through, especially by men of prudence, the populace is none the less often deceived; for, in its eagerness for a speedy peace it shuts its eyes to any trap which may underlie generous promises. Innumerable cities have by this means been reduced to servile states. It was so with Florence, for instance, quite recently; and it happened to Crassus and his army; for, though he realized the emptiness of Parthian promises, made merely to deprive his troops of the need to defend themselves, this did not enable him to sustain their steadfastness, blinded as they were, by the offers of peace which the enemy had made: a point one sees clearly if one reads his life.

In this connection I might mention that when the Samnites, in contravention of their treaty and owing to the ambition of the few, raided and pillaged the lands of Rome’s allies; and then sent ambassadors to Rome to sue for peace, offering to restore what they had taken and to hand over those responsible for the disturbances and for the booty taken, their offer was turned down by the Romans. On their returning to Samnium without hope of an agreement, Claudius Pontius, then in command of the Samnite army, in one of his remarkable speeches, pointed out that the Romans had anyhow wanted war, and that, though on their part they were anxious for peace, necessity constrained them to go to war. He then used these words: ‘War is justified, if necessity forces one to it, and to arm is a duty, if in arms lies one’s hope’ and upon this necessity he based the hope of victory for his troops.

That I may not have to return later to this topic, it will be best for me to mention the more noteworthy instances in Rome’s case. There was that of Gaius Manlius who led his army against the Veientes, and, when a section of the Veientine army broke through his stockades, hurried with a detachment to defend them and, to prevent the Veientes escaping, put a guard on all the exits from the camp. Hence, finding themselves shut in, the Veientes began to fight so furiously that they killed Manlius, and would have got the better of all the rest of the Romans if one of the tribunes had not had the sense to let them out. Thus we see that, so long as necessity constrained the Veientes to fight, they fought with great ferocity, but, when they saw the way was open, thought more of getting away than of fighting.

The armies of the Volsci and the Aequi had crossed the Roman frontiers. Against them the consuls were sent. In the course of the battle the Volscian army, commanded by Vettius Messius, found itself at one moment shut up between its stockades which the Romans had taken, and the other Roman army. Seeing that he must needs die or use his sword to fight for his life, Vettius Messius said to his soldiers: ‘Follow me. There is neither wall nor rampart in the way, but just armed forces to oppose armed forces. In valour we are equal, but in necessity which is the last weapon and the best of all, you have the advantage.’ Thus Livy calls necessity ‘the last and best of all weapons’.

Camillus, the most prudent of all Rome’s generals, having already got into the city of Veii with his army, in order to facilitate the taking of it and to deprive the enemy of a last necessity to defend it, gave orders within the hearing of the Veientes to the effect that no one should touch those who were without arms. The result was that they threw down their arms and the city was taken almost without bloodshed. This device was afterwards adopted by many generals.

Book Three, Discourse 13. Which is it best to trust, a Good General with a Weak Army or a Good Army with a Weak General?

Coriolanus, being banished from Rome, went to the Volsci, where, having got together an army wherewith to avenge himself on his fellow citizens, he set out for Rome, but turned back rather out of devotion to his mother than to the Roman forces. Commenting on this incident, Livy remarks that from it we may learn that the Roman republic grew more through the virtue of her generals than through that of her soldiers for, in view of the fact that the Volsci had thus far always been beaten, they could have won on this occasion only because Coriolanus was their general. But, though Livy advances this opinion, many passages in his history show that soldiers without a general have given remarkable proof of their virtue, and that they have been better disciplined and more determined after the death of their consuls than before they got killed. It happened thus with the army the Romans had in Spain under the Scipios, for, when both these generals had been killed, its virtue was such that not only did it successfully defend itself, but it beat the enemy and thus saved this province for the republic.

Hence all things considered, there are many cases in which the virtue of the soldiers alone has won the day, and many others in which the virtue of generals has had the same effect, so that, one can say that each has need of the other.

In this connection it will be well to consider first which is more to be feared: a good army badly generalled, or a good general who has poor troops. If we follow here the opinion of Caesar, neither one nor the other is worth much. For when he went to Spain against Afranius and Petreius, who had a first-class army, he showed how little esteem he had for them by remarking that ‘he was going to fight an army without a general’, thereby indicating the weakness of the generals. On the other hand, when he went to Thessaly to fight Pompey, he said: ‘I am going to meet a general without an army.’

We can now turn to the further question: whether it is easier for a good general to make a good army, or for a good army to make a good general. I submit that on this point there can be no dispute; for it is easier for many, if good, to select or make a good man of someone, than it is for one good man to do it for many. Lucullus, when he was sent against Mithradates, was wholly without experience of warfare; yet the army, which was good and had excellent officers, soon made him a good general. Again, the Romans, who were short of men, armed a number of slaves, and handed them over to Sempronius Gracchus to train, and in a short time he made of them a good army. Pelopidas and Epaminondas, as I have remarked elsewhere, when they had delivered Thebes, their fatherland, from servitude to the Spartans, in a short time made such excellent soldiers of the Theban peasants that they could not only stand up against the Spartan militia but beat it.

The arguments are evenly balanced, because, if one is good, it can make the other like it. A good army, none the less, if it lacks a good head is apt to become mutinous and dangerous, as happened with the Macedonian army after the death of Alexander, and with the veterans in the civil war. Hence I am of opinion that more confidence should be placed in a good general who has time to train his men and a chance to arm them, than in a mutinous army with a turbulent fellow it has chosen as its head. Twice the glory and praise is due, then, to those generals who have not only had an enemy to beat, but, before coming to grips with him, have had to drill their troops and make a good army of them; for in this they display a twofold virtue, which is so rare that if it were given to many to be such strict disciplinarians, they would be much less esteemed and lauded than they are.

Book Three, Discourse 14. What Effects are produced by the Appearance of New Inventions in the course of a Battle and by the hearing of Unfamiliar Cries

Of what importance in strife and battle may be an unprecedented incident due to something seen or heard for the first time can be shown by numerous incidents and especially by that which occurred during the battle the Romans fought with the Volsci, when Quintius, seeing that one wing of his army was giving way, began to call to it in a loud voice to stand firm since the other wing was winning; for by these words he put courage into his own men and alarmed the enemy, and so won the day. And if on a well- disciplined army such remarks have a great effect, on a disorderly and ill- disciplined army they have a still greater effect, for the whole is swayed, as it were, by a wind.

Let me give you a remarkable instance which occurred in our own times. A few years ago, the city of Perugia was divided between two factions, the Oddi and the Baglioni. The latter were in power, the former having been banished. But, with the help of their friends, they got together an army and assembled it in one of their towns close to Perugia. Then, with the connivance of their partisans they got one night into the city and were on their way to take the piazza without having been discovered. Since at every street corner in the city chains had been placed to block the way, the troops of the Oddi put at their head a man with an iron mace to break the locks fastening the chains so that the cavalry could get through. It remained for him to break only that which barred the way into the piazza when the cry ‘To arms!’ was raised, and on the fellow who was doing the breaking the crowd pressed so hard that he could not raise his arm to strike, so, in order to manage it, he called out ‘Get back there!’, words which, as they passed from rank to rank, became ‘Get back!’. Whereupon those in the rear began to run away, and one after another, the rest followed suit with such frenzy that their own men were thrown into confusion. So that the plans of the Oddi came to nought owing to this insignificant incident.

This leads me to observe that good discipline is needed in an army not merely to enable it to fight in orderly fashion, but also that you may not be perturbed should some tiny misadventure befall. For this reason alone the masses are useless in war, since any rumour, any cry, any commotion may change their mood and make them run away. Hence it is essential to discipline that a good general should depute men to take note of his verbal instructions and to pass them on to others; that he should accustom his troops to pay no heed to anyone else, and his officers not to depart from what they have been commissioned by him to say; for we find that failure to observe these points carefully has often led to the greatest confusion.

In regard to strange sights, every general should try to present something of the sort while his army is in action so as to give courage to his own men and to dispel that of the enemy; for among the events which are incidental to victory this is especially effective. In illustration of this the case of Gaius Sulpicius, the Roman dictator, may be adduced, who, when engaged in battle with the Gauls, armed all his baggage-men and a low lot of camp- followers, put them on mules and other mounts so that with their arms and standards they looked like a troop of horse, and stationed them with Sags flying behind a hill, with orders that, at a given signal when the fighting grew hotter, they should appear and show themselves to the enemy. This being done, as arranged, it so terrified the Gauls that they lost the day. There are two things, then, that a good general should do: first, he should see whether by employing some such novel device he can scare the enemy; and, secondly, he should be on the look-out so that, should the same trick be played on him by the enemy, he may discover it and nullify its effect.

It was thus that the King of India acted when Semiramis, noticing that the king had a good number of elephants, in the hope of intimidating him and showing him that she, too, had plenty of them, constructed a number of them out of the hides of buffaloes and cows and put them on camels which she sent ahead; but, the trick having been discovered by the king, her plan not only proved useless but turned out to her disadvantage. So, too, when the dictator, Mamercus, was at war with the Fidenates, to frighten the Roman army they ordered that in the heat of battle a number of troops should sally forth from Fidenae with torches on their lances in the hope that, distracted by the novelty of the thing, the Romans would break their ranks.

It should be noted here that, when such devices involve more truth than fiction, they can in that case be used on men with advantage, for if they have sufficient boldness, their weakness cannot be discovered so quickly. But when they involve more fiction than truth it is well either not to use them at all, or, if employed, to hold the performance some way off so that the fraud cannot be so quickly detected, as Gaius Sulpicius did with his muleteers. For if fraught with internal weakness, and they be near, they will soon be seen through, and will do you harm instead of good; as the elephants did to Semiramis and the torches to the Fidenates; for, though at the start they upset the army a little, yet, when the dictator came along and began to shout at the men, telling them not to be such cowards as to run away from the smoke like bees but to turn back and go for them, crying: ‘Use the flames to destroy Fidenae since you have failed to pacify them with kindness’, the device proved of no avail to the Fidenates, who were left the losers of the battle.

Book Three, Discourse 15. That at the Head of an Army there should be One, not Several, Commanders, and that to have a Plurality is a Nuisance

When the Fidenates rebelled and put to the sword the colony the Romans had sent to Fidenae, to right the insult the Romans appointed four tribunes with consular power, of whom one was left to guard Rome, and the other three were sent against the Fidenates and the Veientes. Owing to the divided command and to the tribunes being at loggerheads one with the other, they returned discredited, though there had been no disaster. For the discredit they were responsible, but that there had been no disaster was due to the valour of the troops. Hence when the Romans saw what was wrong, they had recourse to the appointment of a dictator so that one man should be responsible for putting right the disorder that three had caused. This shows us the futility of having several persons in command of the same army or in charge of the defence of the same town. Nor can the case be put more clearly than it is by Titus Livy. when he writes: ‘The three tribunes with consular power afforded an illustration of how futile it is for many to share the imperium in a war, for each inclined to follow his own counsel, and since the others thought otherwise, they gave the enemy their chance.’{63}

And though this example is sufficient to show the disorders that a plurality of commanders causes in a war, I propose to give two more, one modern and the other ancient, the better to establish this point.

In 1500, after the King of France, Louis XII, had retaken Milan, he sent his troops to Pisa to recover it for the Florentines. The commissaries, Giovambatista Ridolfi and Luca di Antonio degli Albizi, were in command. Since Giovambatista was a man with a reputation and had seen more service, Luca left the management of everything to him, but though he did not display his own ambition by opposing him, he displayed it by his silence, by his negligence and by criticizing everything, with the result that he helped the siege operations neither by action nor advice, but behaved like a man of no account. Later on, however, when something occurred which necessitated Giovambatista’s returning to Florence, one finds everything quite different; for, when Luca was left in sole charge, he showed his worth alike by his courage, his industry and his sound sense, all of which characteristics had failed to show themselves so long as he had a colleague.

In confirmation of this remark of Titus Livy’s I would cite another example: the expedition which the Romans sent against the Aequi under Quintius and his colleague, Agrippa. Agrippa who wanted the whole conduct of the war to be undertaken by Quintius, says: ‘In the administration of affairs of moment it is highly advisable that the supreme command should be in the hands of one man.’

This is just the opposite of what our republics and princes do today, for to improve the administration they now send to a place more than one commissioner and more than one head, and this leads to indescribable confusion. Indeed, were one to seek the causes of the disasters that have befallen Italian and French armies in our own times, it would be found that this is the most potent. In conclusion, then, one may be quite certain that it is better to entrust an expedition to one man of average prudence than to give to two men of outstanding ability tie same authority.

Book Three, Discourses 16–18: Administrative Posts

Book Three, Discourse 16. Genuine Virtue counts in Difficult Times, but, when Things are going well, it is rather to those whose Popularity is due to Wealth or Parentage that Men look

It always has been, and always will be, the lot of great and outstanding men to be passed over by a republic in times of peace, for the reputation acquired by their virtue arouses envy, and in peaceful times there are plenty of citizens who seek not merely to become their equals but even their superiors. On this point there is a good passage by Thucydides, the Greek historian, who shows how, when the Athenians had got the upper hand in the Peloponnesian war, and had curbed the pride of the Spartans and brought the rest of Greece into subjection, their reputation was almost so great that they planned to occupy Sicily. When the invasion was under discussion in Athens, Alcibiades and some other citizens urged that it should be undertaken, since they were men who cared little for the public good, but were looking to the honours they would gain, should they command the expedition as they proposed to do. But Nicias, whose reputation stood higher than anyone else’s, dissuaded Athens from the course; and, in addressing the people, the chief reason he gave to show that he was in good faith was that, in advising against the war, he was advising them to do what could not be in his own interests, for, so long as Athens was at peace, he knew that a whole crowd of citizens would try to get ahead of him, but, in case of war, he knew that no citizen would be recognized as his superior or as his equal.

We see, therefore, in this incident a disorder to which republics are liable, namely that of showing but little esteem in time of peace for men of worth. This arouses their indignation on two accounts. First, they are themselves deprived of their position. Secondly, they find unworthy men who lack their competence, being made their associates and superiors. This disorder has brought about the ruin of many republics, for citizens who see that their merits are not appreciated and that this is because the times are untroubled and without danger, set about causing trouble and stirring up wars, prejudicial to the republic.

If one inquires what remedies may be applied, two suggest themselves. First, to keep the citizens poor, so that by wealth without worth they may be able to corrupt neither themselves nor other people. Secondly, to be so prepared that it may be possible at any time to go to war, in which case there will always be a demand for citizens of repute, as there was in Rome in its early days. For, since Rome always had armies in the field, there was always room for men of virtue. Nor could an office be taken from a man who deserved it and be given to one who did not; for though actually this was sometimes done by mistake or in order to test them, there soon followed such disorder and danger that there was a speedy return to the right road. But other republics which are not organized as Rome was, and which go to war only when necessity forces them to it, are unable to protect themselves against these inconveniences. On the contrary, they are ever likely to occur therein, and will always give rise to disorder should a citizen who has been passed over but is efficient, have some standing in the city and some adherents.

And if the city of Rome for a time remained immune, to her also, as we have pointed out elsewhere, when she had vanquished Carthage and Antiochus, and no longer feared war, it seemed permissible to entrust her armies to anyone she pleased on account not so much of virtue as of other qualities which appealed to the people. For we find that Paulus Aemilius was more than once refused the consulate, nor was he made consul till the Macedonian war began, when it was granted to him unanimously since the situation was thought to be dangerous.

There were many wars in which this, our city of Florence, was engaged after 1494, and in them the Florentine citizens all showed up badly, till the city chanced upon someone who taught it how an army should be commanded. This was Antonio Giacomini. So long as the city was engaged in a dangerous war, all the other citizens dropped their ambitions, and in the election of a commissioner and head of the army Antonio had no competitor. But when they were engaged in a war about the issue of which there was no doubt and there were plenty of honours and offices to be had, there were so many candidates that, when three commissioners had to be chosen for the campaign against Pisa, Antonio was passed over. And, though it is impossible to estimate precisely how much harm the public suffered through its having failed to appoint Antonio, yet it can quite easily be conjectured. For, as the Pisans no longer had the means to defend themselves or to obtain food, if Antonio had been in command they would soon have been in such straits that they would have had to surrender to the Florentines unconditionally. But as the siege was being conducted by commanders who did not know how to tighten it up and to apply pressure, they were so long about the business that the Florentines had to purchase what they could have obtained by force. Antonio must have been so disgusted at this as to have needed great patience and goodness not to have sought revenge as he might have done, to the ruin of the city or to the injury of some particular citizen. Against this a republic should be on its guard, as we shall show in the next chapter.{64}

Book Three, Discourse 17. That to a Person to whom Offence has been given, no Administrative Post of Importance should subsequently be assigned

A republic should take good care not to give any administrative post of importance to anyone to whom some notable wrong has been done. Claudius Nero left the army with which he was confronting Hannibal, and went with part of it to the Marcha to look for the other consul so that they might engage Hasdrubal before he could join Hannibal. On a previous occasion he had found himself in Spain facing Hasdrubal, whom he had so penned up with his army that he must needs either fight at a disadvantage or perish of hunger. Hasdrubal, however, had cleverly deceived him by making proposals of peace, and had then slipped away, thus depriving Claudius of the chance of defeating him. When this came to be known in Rome it brought on him the grave reproaches alike of the senate and of the people, and he was spoken of disparagingly throughout the city to his discredit and to his disgust. So, when later on he became consul and was sent to fight Hannibal, he took the other course described above; which was so exceedingly dangerous a thing to do that it caused in Rome grave doubts and great anxiety till the news of the routing of Hasdrubal at length arrived. When asked afterwards why he had adopted so dangerous a course whereby without any grave necessity he had come near to risking the freedom of Rome, Claudius replied that he had done so because he thought that, if he succeeded, he would regain the glory he had lost in Spain, and that, if he did not succeed but the course he had adopted led to disaster, he would feel that he had avenged himself on a city whose citizens had treated him so ungratefully and so unwisely.

If the passions aroused by such offences could have so great an effect on a Roman citizen at a time when Rome was as yet free from corruption, one can well imagine how great an effect injuries are likely to have on a citizen of some other city which is not constituted as Rome then was. Moreover, since no sure remedy can be prescribed for such disorders, to which republics are liable, it follows that it is impossible to constitute a republic that shall last for ever, since there are a thousand unpredictable ways in which its downfall may be brought about.

Book Three, Discourse 18. Nothing becomes a General more than to anticipate the Enemy’s Plans

Epaminondas, the Theban, used to say that nothing is more essential or more useful to a general than to discover what the enemy has decided and is planning to do. And since it is difficult to discover this, the more praiseworthy does he become who conjectures it aright. Nor is the difficulty confined to understanding the enemy’s plans, it is sometimes difficult also to understand his actions, and this not only when they are remote, but when they are done here and now in the neighbourhood. For it has often happened that, when a battle has gone on into the night, the winner thinks he has lost, and the loser thinks he has won. This kind of mistake has made people adopt courses which did not contribute to the safety of those adopting them, as happened to Brutus and Cassius, who through a mistake of this kind lost the war; for, whereas Brutus had been victorious on his own flank, Cassius, who had lost, thought that the whole army must have been routed, a mistake which led him to despair of its safety, so that he killed himself.

In our time in the battle which Francis, King of France, fought with the Swiss at Santa Cecilia in Lombardy, that portion of the Swiss army which had remained intact, thought they had won when night came, for they knew nothing of those who had been routed and killed. In consequence of this mistake they did not save themselves, but remained to fight again in the morning to their very great disadvantage. Their mistake also caused the Papal and Spanish army to make a mistake, and on account of it almost to get wiped out; for, on receiving false news of the victory, they crossed the Po and, had they advanced too far, would have been taken prisoners by the victorious French.

Such mistakes as these occurred in the camps of the Romans and of the Aequi. For instance, when the consul, Sempronius, led an army out to meet the enemy and engaged them in battle, the fight lasted till the evening with varying fortune on either side, and, when night came on, both had lost half their men, so that neither of them returned to their camps, but, instead, withdrew to neighbouring hills where they thought they would be more secure. The Roman army was divided in two parts, of which one went with the consul and the other with one, Tempanius, a centurion, to whose valour it was due that the Roman army had not been entirely routed during the battle. When morning came, the Roman consul, who was without further news of the enemy, retired towards Rome. The army of the Aequi withdrew in like manner; for each of them thought the enemy had won, and in consequence, each retired without troubling about the booty that had been left in their camps. It so happened, however, that Tempanius, who was also retiring with the rest of the Roman army, heard from certain wounded Aequi that their generals had departed and had abandoned their camp. So, on receipt of the news, he went to the Roman camp and salvaged it, then sacked that of the Aequi and returned to Rome victorious. This victory, as we see, depended simply upon which came first to hear of the enemy’s panic. It should be noted, therefore, that it may often happen that two armies confronting one another have each been thrown into disorder and are pressed by the same necessity, in which case that army will come out victorious which first hears of the necessity in which the other is placed.

I shall now give of this an example which concerns ourselves and occurred recently. In 1498, when the Florentines had a large army enveloping Pisa and were pressing that city hard, the Venetians, who had undertaken to protect Pisa, since they did not see any other way of saving it, decided to create a diversion by sending another expedition to attack the Florentine dominions. So, with a powerful army they entered the Val di Lamona, took the town of Marradi and laid siege to the citadel of Castiglione, which stands on a hill above it. When the Florentines got to know of this, they decided to send help to Marradi, but not to weaken the forces they had before Pisa. So they made new levies of infantry and enrolled fresh troops of cavalry, and sent them there under the command of Jacopo IV d’Appiano, Lord of Piombino, and Count Rinuccio da Marciano. When, therefore, these troops reached the hill above Marradi, the enemy raised the siege of Castiglione and all withdrew into the town. After the two armies had been facing one another for several days, both of them began to suffer considerably from lack of provisions and other necessities; and neither of them daring to attack the other, nor aware of the other’s difficulties, each of them decided one fine evening to raise their camp the following morning, and to retire, the Venetians on Bersighella and Faenza, the Florentines on Casaglia and the Mugello. When morning came and each of the camps had begun to send away its baggage, it so happened that a woman came out of the town of Marradi and approached the Florentine camp, for on account of her age and poverty she felt safe and was anxious to see some of her relations who were in that camp. From her the commanders of the Florentine forces heard that the Venetians had struck camp, so, on this news, they plucked up courage, changed their plans to those they would have adopted had they dislodged the enemy, went after them and wrote to Florence announcing that they had repelled the enemy and won the war. This victory was due solely to their having been the first to hear of the enemy’s departure, and had this knowledge come first to the other side, they would have done against our men precisely the same thing.

Book Three, Discourses 19–23: Administrative Methods: The Rival Claims of Severity and Good Fellowship

Book Three, Discourse 19. Whether in controlling the Masses Consideratenessa is more Necessary than Punishment

Though the Roman republic was distraught owing to the hostility between the nobles and the plebs, none the less, when war came, it commissioned Quintius and Appius Claudius to lead the armies forth. Appius, who was a brutal and harsh commander, was so badly obeyed by his troops that he had to quit his province as though he had been defeated. Quintius, who was of a kindly and humane disposition, was obeyed by his troops and returned victorious. It would seem better, therefore, in controlling a large number of men, to be humane rather than arrogant, compassionate rather than cruel. Cornelius Tacitus, however, – and many other writers agree with him – arrives at the opposite conclusion, which he expresses in these words: ‘In ruling the masses punishment is of more avail than considerateness.’

With a view to reconciling these two opinions I would point out that either the men you have to rule are in ordinary circumstances your associates, or they have always been your subjects. When they are your associates, you cannot in your dealings with them use penalties, nor yet that severity which Cornelius advocates. Wherefore, since in Rome the plebs had an equal share in the government with the nobility, neither could, on becoming the ruler for the time being, treat the other brutally and harshly.

Very often, too, one sees that Roman generals succeeded better when they made their armies love them and treated them with consideration than did those who made themselves excessively feared, unless such behaviour was accompanied by outstanding virtue, as it was in the case of Manlius Torquatus. On the other hand, in governing one’s subjects, which is what Cornelius has in mind, lest they should become insolent and trample on you should you be too easy with them, it is better to rely on punishment rather than on considerateness. But this also should be used with moderation, so as to avoid cause for hatred; for no ruler benefits by making himself odious. To avoid this he should leave his subjects’ property alone; for, except as a cover for pillage, no prince is keen on shedding blood unless he be driven to it, and need for this seldom arises. But in connection with pillage bloodshed is always happening, nor is either the occasion or the desire to shed it ever lacking, as in another treatise discussing this topic has been shown at length.{65} More praise is due, then, to Quintius than to Appius, and Cornelius’s view, under the conditions he supposes but not in those observed in the case of Appius, deserves approbation.

And while we are on this topic of punishment and considerateness it will not be irrelevant, I think, to cite a case in which an act of common decency availed more with the Falisci than did the use of arms.

Book Three, Discourse 20. A Single Act of Common Humanity made a Greater Impression on the Falisci than did all the Forces of Rome (66)

When Camillus and his army lay before the Faliscan city, which he was besieging, a schoolmaster who taught the most noble youths in the city, thinking to ingratiate himself with Camillus and the Roman people, went with his pupils outside the town ostensibly to give them exercise, led them to where Camillus was encamped, and offered to hand them over, saying that, if they were used as a lever, the town would place itself in his hands. Camillus not only rejected the offer, but had the teacher stripped, his hands tied behind his back, and to each of the boys gave a rod with which to beat him often and hard on his way back to the town. When the citizens saw this, they were so pleased with the humanity and integrity of Camillus that they no longer wanted to go on with the defence, but decided to hand over the town. This authentic incident affords us an excellent example of how a humane and kindly act sometimes makes a much greater impression than an act of ferocity or violence; and how districts and cities into which neither arms nor the accoutrements of war, nor any other kind of human force would have been able to obtain entry, it has been possible to enter by displaying common humanity and kindness, continence or generosity.

Of this there are in history many other examples besides the above. One sees, for instance, how Roman forces failed to drive Pyrrhus from Italy, which he quitted, none the less, owing to the generosity of Fabricius who told him of an offer which had been made to the Romans by one of his servants, to poison him. One sees, too, how Scipio Africanus did not gain so much renown in Spain for taking New Carthage as he did by the continence he showed in sending back to her husband his young and beautiful wife, inviolate. The repute he gained by this action made the whole of Spain his friend.

We see, again, how keen peoples are on their great men doing this kind of thing, and how much it is praised by writers, both by the biographers of princes and by those who have laid down rules for their behaviour. Xenophon, for instance, is at considerable pains to show what great honours, what great victories, and how much good repute Cyrus gained by his humanity and his affability, and how entirely free he was from pride, cruelty, licentiousness and other vices by which the lives of men are marred. Since, however, Hannibal gained great fame and great victories by the opposite method, it is fitting that in the next chapter I should inquire how this came about.

Book Three, Discourse 21. How it comes about that Hannibal, whose Procedure differed radically from Scipio’s, yet produced the same Effect in Italy as Scipio did in Spain

Some people, I fancy, would be astonished were they to notice how certain generals, in spite of their having adopted a contrary line of conduct, produced the same effects as those who behaved in the way we have just described. Hence it would seem that the causes of victory did not rest on the grounds alleged, but, on the contrary, that such methods bring you neither greater strength nor better luck, since glory and reputation can be gained by the opposite methods. Let me keep to the two men mentioned above, and try to make my meaning more clear. Scipio, we find, entered Spain and by his humane and kindly conduct at once made that country his friend, and won the respect and admiration of its people. We find, on the other hand, that Hannibal entered Italy and by totally different methods, i.e. by cruelty, violence, rapine and every sort of perfidy, produced there the same effect as Scipio had produced in Spain; for all the Italian cities revolted to him, and all its peoples became his followers.

If one asks how this came about, there would appear to be several reasons. First, men are fond of novelty; so much so that those who are prosperous desire it as much as those who are poor. For, as has been said before, and rightly, in prosperity men get fed up, and in adversity cast down. Now, this desire for novelty throws open the door to anyone in the neighbourhood who puts himself at the head of a new movement. If he be a foreigner, men run after him; and, if he be a local man, they crowd round him, boost him and push him forward; with the result that, whatever line he takes, he succeeds in making great headway in this locality. Besides which, men are moved in the main by two things; either by love or by fear. Hence it comes about that a person in authority may be either one who makes himself loved or one who makes himself feared. Indeed, a man who makes himself feared is usually better followed and better obeyed than is one who makes himself loved.

It matters then little to a general along which road he travels, provided he has virtuosity, and his virtue gives him standing with men. For when there is great efficiency as there was in Hannibal and Scipio, it counterbalances all the mistakes due to their having made themselves too much loved or too much feared. For from both of these two lines of conduct there may arise serious inconveniences, likely to bring about the downfall of a ruler; because he who is too anxious to gain affection, should there be any little departure from the straight path, may become despised: while the other, who is anxious to be feared, should there be any excess in his behaviour, may become odious. And to keep precisely on the middle path cannot be done, for it is alien to our nature. Hence it is necessary that any excesses in action should be compensated by exceeding efficiency, as they were in Hannibal and Scipio. None the less, though it was by behaving thus that they made their name, it is clear that in both cases their conduct did them harm.

How each of them came to make his name has already been explained. The harm done, so far as Scipio is concerned, was that in Spain his soldiers mutinied, and were joined by some of his allies. This was due entirely to their not being afraid of him; for men are so restless that should the least thing open the door to their ambition, they at once belie the love which their ruler may have evoked by his decency, as did the aforesaid soldiers and allies. Consequently Scipio, to remove this inconvenience, had to resort to some measure of that cruelty which he had thus far avoided. As to Hannibal, there is no particular instance of his cruelty or his faithlessness doing him harm. One can well imagine, however, that Naples and many other towns which remained loyal to the Roman people, did so through fear of him. It is certain, too, that his impious behaviour made him more odious to the Roman people than any other enemy which that republic ever had. For, whereas to Pyrrhus, when he and his army were in Italy, they revealed a plot to poison him, they never forgave Hannibal, even when his troops were disarmed and disbanded, until they had compassed his death. Owing to Hannibal’s reputation for impiety, faithlessness and cruelty, then, this inconvenience arose; but, on the other hand, he derived from it a very great advantage, of which all writers have spoken with admiration. For, though his army was composed of men from different races, there never arose any dissension either among the men themselves or between them and him. This can only have been due to the terror his person inspired, which was so great that, in conjunction with the reputation he acquired for efficiency, it kept his troops quiet and united.

I conclude, therefore, that it does not matter much in what way a general behaves, provided his efficiency be so great that it flavours the way in which he behaves, whether it be in this way or that. For, as we have said, in both there are defects and dangers unless they be corrected by outstanding virtue. Hence, if Hannibal and Scipio produced the same effect, the one by praiseworthy and the other by reprehensible methods, it will not be amiss, I think, for me to discuss two Roman citizens who acquired the same glory by different methods, both of which were praiseworthy.

Book Three, Discourse 22. How the Severity of Manlius Torquatus and the Sociabilitya of Valerius Corvinus won for Each the same Degree of Fameb

There were living in Rome at the same time two first-class generals, Manlius Torquatus and Valerius Corvinus, equal in virtue, equal in the number of their triumphs and equal in fame. In dealing with the enemy the virtue they each displayed in the conquests they made was also on a par, but in the way they handled the army and in their treatment of the troops they behaved very differently. For Manlius was a commander who used every type of severity, and never let his soldiers off either fatigues or punishments. Valerius, on the other hand, treated them with the utmost consideration in every way, and in his bearing was familiar and homely.

Consequently one finds one of them killing his own son in order to secure the obedience of the troops, and the other harming nobody. None the less, from their diverse methods they reaped the same fruit, alike in contest with the enemy and in the honour brought both to the republic and to themselves. For no soldier ever shirked battle, or mutinied or failed to comply with the wishes of either of them; though so peremptory were Manlius’s commands that all orders which exceeded the bounds of moderation came to be called ‘Manlian orders’. Hence we must first inquire how it came about that Manlius was constrained to behave with such rigidity: secondly, what enabled Valerius to behave with such consideration; thirdly, what caused these different methods to produce the same effect; and, finally, which is the better way and which the most useful to imitate.

If anyone considers carefully the character of Manlius from the time when Titus Livy first mentions him, he will realize that he was a very brave man, devoted to his father and to his country, and very respectful towards his superiors. This is shown in his killing of that Gaul, by his defence of his father against the tribune, and from what he said to the consul before he went to fight the Gaul, namely: ‘Without an order from you I will never fight against any enemy, even though I am sure of victory.’ When, therefore, a man of this kind obtains the rank of commander he expects to find everybody else like himself, and the boldness which characterizes him makes him order bold actions, and what he orders he expects to be carried out in precisely the way he prescribes. It is indeed a very sound rule that, when harsh commands are given, one should be harsh in seeing them carried out; otherwise you will find yourself let down. It should also be noted that, if one wants to be obeyed, one should know how to command, and that one can know how to command only if one has compared one’s own character with the character of those who have to obey, and gives orders only when one sees that they harmonize and, when they clash, abstains.

It has been said by a wise man that, if one is to hold a state by violent means, the force employed should be proportionate to the resistance offered. So long as this proportion obtains, it is to be expected that the violence will last; but should the violated be stronger than the violator, it is probable that the violence will some day cease.

But to return to our discourse. I maintain that, if bold things are to be ordered, one must be a bold man; and that, given a man has the strength and that he issues bold orders, then he cannot be soft in seeing that his orders are obeyed; whereas a man who has not this strength of character, should be careful not to give such out-of-the-way orders, but in giving orders can afford to act in accordance with his common humanity, because ordinary punishments are not ascribed to the ruler, but to the laws and institutions. It must be supposed, therefore, that Manlius was constrained to act thus rigidly owing to the extraordinary orders he gave, to which he was inclined by his nature. And that such orders should be given is useful in a republic, since they restore its discipline to its pristine state and revive its ancient virtue. And, as we have said before, should a republic be so fortunate as frequently to have men who by their example give fresh life to its laws, and do not merely stop them going to rack and ruin, but restore their former vigour, such a republic would last for ever.

Such a one was Manlius, for by the harshness of his commands he maintained military discipline in Rome, whereunto he was constrained first by his nature and then by his desire to see those orders carried out which his natural appetite had prompted him to issue. Valerius, on the other hand, could go gently, as one to whom it sufficed to see done what it was customary to do in the Roman armies. These customs, since they were sound, were enough to keep up his reputation, and since they were not hard to observe, there was no need for Valerius to punish delinquents, because there weren’t any, but had there been any they would have ascribed their punishment, as was said, to the ordinances, not to the brutality of their prince. So that Valerius could indulge his natural bent for kindliness of all sorts, and by these means acquire gratitude from the troops and be able to keep them contented. It thus came about that, since the same obedience was shown to both, both were able to produce the same effect though by different means. Those who desire to imitate them may, however, fall into the vices I mentioned in connection with Hannibal and Scipio, namely, the evoking of contempt or of hatred, vices which you can avoid only if in you there be more than ordinary virtue, but not otherwise.

It remains to consider which of these two ways of behaving is the more praiseworthy. This is open to question, I think, for some authors praise one and some the other. Yet writers who describe how a prince should govern, incline rather to Valerius than to Manlius, and Xenophon, whom I have cited already, gives many instances illustrative of Cyrus’s consideration for others, and thus agrees closely with what Titus Livy says of Valerius. For, when he was consul in the Samnite war, and the day came on which they had to give battle, he addressed his troops with the same consideration he usually displayed in dealing with them. Having given the speech, Titus Livy adds these remarks: ‘No commander was ever more familiar with his soldiers, for he deemed it no burden to share their duties with the meanest of them. He would take part especially in their military sports, in which men contend with one another in speed and strength as equals, and in this easy comradeship never changed his countenance whether he won or was beaten. He was never contemptuous towards anyone who challenged him as an equal. In his actions he was kind when circumstances permitted, and in his conversation was scarce less mindful of the liberty of others than he was of his own dignity. And – what is more popular than aught else – he behaved towards them just as he had behaved when a candidate for office.’

Titus Livy speaks with the same respect of Manlius, pointing out that the severity he showed in killing his son, made the army obey him when he was consul, which was the cause of the victory gained by the Roman people over the Latins. Indeed, in praising him he goes further than this, for, after mentioning this victory, he describes in detail how he drew the troops up for this battle, points out the dangers which the Roman people ran in it, and the difficulty they had in winning it, and ends with the remark that it was the virtue of Manlius alone that gave the Romans the victory. He compares, too, their respective forces, and asserts that whichever side had had Manlius as consul would have won. Hence, in view of what historians have said, it is difficult to judge between Manlius and Valerius.

I do not want to leave the matter undecided, however, so shall say this. For a citizen who is living under the laws of a republic I think it is more praiseworthy and less dangerous to adopt the procedure of Manlius, since this way of behaving was entirely in the public interest, and was in no way affected by private ambition, for it is impossible to gain partisans if one is harsh in one’s dealing with everybody and is wholly devoted to the common good, because by doing this one does not acquire particular friends or – as I have just called them – partisans. Wherefore, than such a procedure none can be more advantageous or more desirable in a republic, since it neither fails to take account of the interests of the public nor does it suggest that personal power is in any way being sought. But of Valerius’s procedure the contrary is true, for, though so far as the public is concerned, it has the same effects, yet, if a man should win the special goodwill of the troops and should retain his command for long, there is grave reason to fear that the result may be prejudicial to liberty.

If such prejudicial effects were lacking in the case of Publicola, the reason was that the minds of the Romans were not as yet corrupt, and that he did not hold office for a long time without intermission. But if one takes the case of a prince, which is the case Xenophon is considering, we should have to side wholly with Valerius and to discard Manlius. For a prince should seek to gain the obedience and affection of his soldiers and of his subjects; their obedience by his fidelity to the constitution and by the reputation he has for virtue; their affection by his affability, kindliness, compassion, and the other qualities for which Valerius was conspicuous; and Cyrus also, so Xenophon tells us. For that a prince should be well liked by each of his subjects and should have a devoted army, is in conformity with other features appertaining to his princely status. But for the army to be devoted to the cause of a private citizen is not consistent with his position, since he is bound by the laws and should obey the magistrates.

We read in the annals of ancient Venice, that when the galleys of this republic had returned to port, a quarrel arose between the sailors and the populace resulting in disturbances in which arms were used; nor could the tumult be quelled either by the police force or by highly respected citizens, or by fear of the magistrates, until a gentleman who had been in command of the sailors the year before, suddenly appeared before them and they stopped fighting out of the affection they had for him. This subservience aroused such suspicions in the senate that the Venetians shortly afterwards made sure of him either by imprisonment or death.

I conclude, therefore, that Valerius’ method is advantageous in the case of a prince but harmful in the case of a private citizen, alike to his country and to himself; to his country because such behaviour prepares the way for tyranny; to himself because the suspicion his behaviour arouses forces his city to protect itself against him to his own undoing. On the other hand, I claim that in a prince the behaviour of Manlius is harmful and in a private citizen of advantage, especially to his country. Nor will it hurt the private citizen unless the hatred you incur by your severity is intensified by the suspicion to which the great reputation your virtue has brought you, may give rise; as we shall now show that it did in the case of Camillus.

Book Three, Discourse 23. Upon what Account Camillus was banished from Rome

We have just reached the conclusion that anyone who behaves like Valerius does harm both to his country and to himself, but that if he behaves as Manlius did he helps his country and sometimes harms himself. This is borne out to a large extent by the case of Camillus, whose behaviour was more like that of Manlius than Valerius. Hence Titus Livy says of him that ‘the soldiers both hated and admired his virtue’.

It was his solicitude, his prudence, his magnanimity and the good discipline he maintained in his administration and command of the army, that caused him to be so much admired. It was because he was more severe in chastizing than generous in rewarding that he came to be hated. For this hatred Titus Livy ascribes the following reasons. First, he assigned the money which had been obtained from the sale of goods taken from the Veientes, to the public use, instead of distributing it with the booty. Secondly, at his triumph he caused his triumphal chariot to be drawn by four white horses, which they said was due to his pride and to his desire to emulate the Sun. Thirdly, he made a vow to give a tenth part of the Veientian booty to Apollo, and, in order to fulfil this vow, had to deprive the soldiers of booty on which they had already laid their hands.

From this it may clearly and easily be seen what kind of thing makes a prince odious to his people. Of such things the chief is to deprive them of what they value. This is a matter of considerable importance because, when a man is deprived of something which possesses intrinsic value, he never forgets it, and you are reminded of it every time you in any way need it; and, since such need is of daily occurrence, you are reminded of it every day. The other thing is to be proud and puffed up in your bearing; than which nothing is more odious to the populace, especially when that populace is free. And even should this pride and ostentation cause them no inconvenience, they none the less hate him who displays it. Hence a ruler should avoid this as he would a rock, for to draw hatred down on your head without deriving thence any profit is an extremely rash and in no wise a prudent policy.

Book Three, Discourses 24–30: Internal Security

Book Three, Discourse 24. The Prolongation of Military Commandsa made Rome a Servile State

A careful study of the procedure of the Roman republic will show that two causes contributed to the dissolution of that republic. The first was the disputes which arose concerning the Agrarian law. The second was the prolongation of military commands. Had their consequences been recognized from the beginning and due remedies applied, freedomb would have lasted longer in Rome, and life there would have been perhaps more tranquil. And although there is no record of any tumults having arisen in Rome owing to the prolongation of a military command, it is clear that in fact great harm was done to the city by the authority its citizens acquired in this way.

Had other citizens whose period of office was extended, been as wise and good as Lucius Quintius, this inconvenience would not have arisen. His goodness was exemplary; for when by agreement between the plebs and the senate, the plebs prolonged the tribunes’ commission for a year in the hope of thus strengthening their resistance to the ambition of the nobles, the senate out of jealousy of the plebs, not wanting to be outdone, wished to prolong the consulate of Lucius Quintius. But he would have none of it, for bad examples ought to be ignored, he said, not strengthened by the addition of another even worse example; so he desired them to make new consuls. Had such goodness and prudence characterized all Rome’s citizens, they could not have allowed this custom of prolonging public offices to be introduced, nor from these would they have passed on to the prolonging of military commands, which in due course led to the downfall of the republic.

The first to have his military command prolonged, was Publius Philo. He was besieging the city of Palaeopolis when his consulate came to an end. Since it seemed to the senate that he was on the point of winning a victory, they did not appoint a successor, but made him proconsul. He was thus the first proconsul. Though, in doing this, the senate was looking to the public interest, it was this that eventually made Rome a servile state. For, the further the Romans went afield with their armies, the more necessary did this prolonging of commands seem to be, and the more use they made of it. From which there resulted two inconveniences. First, but a small number of men acquired experience as military commanders, and in consequence but few acquired a reputation for it. Secondly, when a citizen had been for long in command of an army, he won the army over and made it his partisan; so that it came in time to forget of the senate and to recognize its commander alone as its head. It thus came about that Sulla and Marius were able to find troops to support them in actions contrary to the public good, and it thus came about that Caesar was able to reduce his country to subjection. Had the Romans not prolonged offices and military commands, they would not have attained such great power in so short a time, and, had they been slower in making conquests, they would also have been slower to arrive at servitude.{67}

Book Three, Discourse 25. Concerning the Poverty of Cincinnatus and of many other Roman Citizens

We have maintained elsewhere that the most useful institution to have in a state which enjoys freedoma is one that keeps the citizens poor. Though in Rome it is not clear which institution had this effect, since the Agrarian law, especially, encountered a good deal of opposition, yet we have evidence that for four hundred years from the time the city was built, there was a very great deal of poverty there. Nor can one think of any institution which tended more to produce this effect than the knowledge that poverty did not bar you from any office or from any honour, and that virtue was sought out no matter in whose house it dwelt. This way of life made riches less desirable.

This is obvious. For, when Minucius was consul, and his army was beset on all sides by the Aequi, Rome was so terror-stricken lest the army should be lost, that it had recourse to the appointment of a dictator, its last resource in times of great distress. The appointment was given to Lucius Quintius Cincinnatus, who was found in his little farm ploughing with his own hands. This incident is enshrined in a golden saying of Titus Livy, who says: ‘It is worth while recording it for the sake of those who in comparison with riches despise all human values, and have not much use for honour or virtue unless it brings them wealth.’ Cincinnatus was ploughing his little farm which was not more than four half-acres in extent, when messengers from the senate in Rome came to tell him of his appointment to the dictatorship, and to point out in what danger the Roman republic stood. Whereupon he put on his toga, came to Rome, got together an army, and went to the rescue of Minucius. Having defeated and despoiled the enemy and relieved Minucius, he was unwilling that an army which had let itself be surrounded should share in the spoils; for, he said, ‘I do not propose that you should share in booty taken from those who almost made booty of you.’ He then deprived Minucius of the consulship, made him legate, and said to him, ‘You will keep this rank till you have learnt how to be a consul.’ He had also made Lucius Tarquinius his master of horse, though he was so poor that he fought on foot.

Honour, then, was paid to poverty in Rome, as has been said; for a man as wise and valiant as Cincinnatus thought four half-acres of land sufficient to live on. There was still the same degree of poverty at the time of Marcus Regulus, for, when he was with his army in Africa, he asked leave of the senate to return to look after his farm, which his labourers were neglecting. And here two things especially are noteworthy; first, poverty, and how content people were with it, and how the citizens thought it sufficient to win honours in a war, and to leave all the profits to the public; for, if Regulus had been contemplating enrichment as the result of the war, he would not have bothered about his fields being neglected. The second point to be considered is the magnanimity of these citizens whose greatness of spirit when in command of an army rose above that of any prince who had respect neither for kings nor republics, and were alarmed and frightened at nothing; but, when they returned to private life, they became frugal, humble, careful of their little properties, obedient to the magistrates, and respectful to their superiors. So much so that it seems incredible that one and the same mind should have undergone so great a change.

This poverty lasted to the days of Paulus Aemilius, which were the last happy days this republic enjoyed, days wherein a citizen would by his triumph bring riches to Rome, yet himself remain a poor man. And, in such high esteem was poverty still held in Paulus’ day that, when he wanted to do honour to those who had done well in the war, he gave his son-in-law a silver cup, which was the first piece of silver that had ever been in his house. I might indeed discourse at length on the advantages of poverty over riches, and how poverty brings honour to cities, provinces and religious institutions, whereas the other thing has ruined them; if it had not already been done so often by others.

Book Three, Discourse 26. How Women have brought about the Downfall of States

A riot was caused in the city of Ardea owing to a quarrel between the patricians and the plebs about a marriage. A rich woman was anxious to get married, and a plebeian and a noble both asked for her hand. She had no father, and whereas her guardians wanted her to marry the plebeian, her mother preferred the noble. This caused such a disturbance that people took up arms, the nobles in support of the noble, and the plebs in support of the plebeian. The plebs were beaten, left Ardea, and sent to the Volsci for help. The nobles appealed to Rome. The Volsci were first in the field, reached Ardea, and laid siege to the city. The Romans then came along, hemmed the Volsci in between the city and their own army; with the result that, straitened by famine, they were forced to surrender at discretion. The Romans then entered the city, killed the promoters of the disturbance and restored order.

There are several points to be noticed here. First, we see how women have been the cause of many troubles, have done great harm to those who govern cities, and have caused in them many divisions. In like manner we read in Livy’s history that the outrage done to Lucretia deprived the Tarquins of their rule, and that done to Virginia deprived the Decemviri of their power. Among the primary causes of the downfall of tyrants, Aristotle puts the injuries they do on account of women, whether by rape, violation or the breaking up of marriages. But this we have discussed at length in the chapter dealing with conspiracies. I say here, then, that absolute princes and the rulers of republics should not treat such matters as of small moment, but should bear in mind the disorders that such events many occasion and look to the matter in good time, so that the remedy applied may not be accompanied by damage done to, or revolts against, their state or their republic; as happened to the people of Ardea who allowed the quarrel between their citizens to grow and to split them into factions, and then, to unite them again, had to appeal to foreigners for assistance, which is an excellent prelude to slavery.

Let us turn now to the other point to be noted, which is how in a city unity can be restored. Of this I shall speak in the next chapter.

Book Three, Discourse 27. How Unity may be restored to a Divided City, and how mistaken are those who hold that to retain Possession of Cities one must needs keep them divided

From the example set by the Roman consuls who reconciled the people of Ardea we may learn how to deal with a divided city. The only way to cure it is to kill the ringleaders responsible for the disturbances. For there are but three ways of dealing with them: either to kill them as the consuls did; or to expel them from the city; or to force them to make peace with one another and to undertake not to attack one another. Of these three methods the last is the most hurtful, the least reliable and the most futile. For, where there has been considerable bloodshed or other such-like outrages, it is impossible that a forced peace should last where people are meeting one another every day, and it is difficult to prevent them attacking one another since in their daily intercourse fresh occasions for quarrelling are liable to arise.

Of this no better example can be given than what happened in the city of Pistoia. Fifteen years ago that city was divided, as it is still, into the Panciatichi and the Cancellieri, but in those days they were armed, whereas today they have given this up. Between them there had been many disputes, which led to bloodshed, the destruction of houses, the plundering of property, and other hostile acts of all kinds. The Florentines, whose job it was to compose this strife, always used the third method in doing this, and always there arose worse tumults and greater troubles. So that they got tired of it and tried the second method, which consists in removing the party leaders. Some they put in prison; others they banished to various places; so that the concord thus established might last, as it has lasted, until now.

Yet it would unquestionably have been safer to use the first method. Since, however, in executions of this kind there is something great and grand, a weak republic cannot do such things. So alien, indeed, are they to its character that it is with difficulty that it brings itself to use the second remedy.

These are some of the mistakes which, as I said at the beginning, rulers in our day make when they have to deal with affairs of importance, for they should be ready to hear of how those acted who in olden days had to deal with such problems, whereas, instead, so feeble are men today owing to their defective education and to the little knowledge they have of affairs, that they look upon the judgements of their forefathers as inhuman in some cases and in others as impossible. Yet the modern views they held to are quite unsound; for instance, that advocated a while ago by wise folk in our city who said that Pistoia should be held by means of factions and Pisa by means of fortresses. They fail to see how futile such means are in both cases.

I shall say nothing here about fortresses because I have elsewhere discussed them at length. What I propose to discuss here is the futility of trying to keep the towns you have to govern, divided. First of all, whether it be a prince or a republic that is governing them, it is impossible for you to remain friends with both of two factions. For it is natural and inevitable that men should take sides in any dispute, and should be more drawn to this side than to that. So that, if one party in the town you hold is discontented, it will cause you to lose it as soon as war comes along, for it is impossible to hold a city which has enemies without as well as within. If it is a republic that governs the city, there is no surer way of making its citizens bad subjects and of provoking divisions in your own city than to have to govern a divided city; for each party will seek to win favour, and each will use corrupt practices in order to gain supporters. From which two very serious inconveniences arise. First you will never make them your friends owing to your inability to govern them well so long as their government changes frequently according as now one and now another humour prevails. Secondly, the encouragement of parties in the city must needs provoke divisions in your republic. To this Biondo bears witness when he says of the Florentines and the Pistoians that: ‘In their endeavour to restore unity to Pistoia, the Florentines themselves became divided.’ Hence it is easy to see to what evils a divided city gives rise.

When in 1502 Arezzo was lost, together with the whole of the Val di Tevere and the Val di Chiana, which were occupied by the Vitelli and by the Duke of Valentino, a Monsieur de Lanques was sent by the French king to restore to the Florentines all the towns they had lost. Since in every city which Lanques visited, he found men who said they belonged to Marzocco’s party,a he strongly criticized these divisions. If in France, he said, a man were to claim to belong to the king’s party, he would be punished, for such a statement would imply that in that town there were people hostile to the king, whereas it was the king’s wish that all the towns should support him, and should be united, not split into parties.

All such behaviour and such distorted views are due to the weakness of the overlords, who, because they cannot hold their dominions by force and by virtue, have recourse to such devices, which in quiet times may occasionally be of use, but which, when adversity comes and the times are troubled, show how fallacious they are.

Book Three, Discourse 28. That a Strict Watch should be kept on the Doings of Citizens since under cover of Good Works there often arises the Beginning of Tyranny

When the city of Rome was suffering from famine and the public resources had come to an end, a certain Spurius Maelius, a very rich man in those days, took it into his head to lay in a private supply of corn and to dole it out to the plebs to acquire gratitude. He thereby gained such favour with the crowd that the senate, foreseeing the inconvenience to which this liberality of his might give rise, in order to put a stop to it before he should acquire more power, appointed forthwith a dictator and put Maelius to death. Our attention is thus drawn to the fact that actions which appear to be done from a sense of duty and cannot reasonably be found fault with, may lead to victimization and prove very dangerous to a republic unless they are corrected in good time.

Let me further elaborate this point. I agree that a republic cannot survive nor be governed at all well unless in it there are citizens of good repute. On the other hand, the reputation citizens acquire in a republic may bring about a tyranny; and to provide against this, it is essential to exercise control in such wise that the reputation of a citizen shall be helpful, not harmful to the city and to its liberties. Hence the means whereby a reputation is obtained, must be inquired into. Such means are of two kinds in point of fact: public or private. The means taken are public when a person, by the soundness of his advice and the even greater efficiency of his performance, benefits the public, and so acquires a reputation. To acquire such a reputation should be open to citizens, and rewards should be offered both to those who advise and to those who act, so that they may thus acquire honour and satisfaction. And provided reputations gained by such means be honest and above board, they should never be dangerous to the state; but when acquired in the other way we mentioned, i.e. by private means, they are very dangerous and extremely harmful. The private way consists in conferring benefits on this or that individual, such as lending him money, marrying off his daughters for him, protecting him from the magistrates and doing other favours of a personal nature which cause men to become partisans, and encourage those who are thus favoured, to become corrupters of public morals and law breakers.

A well-ordered republic, therefore, should, as we have said, make it open to anyone to gain favour by his services to the public, but should prevent him from gaining it by his services to private individuals. And this is what we find Rome did; for she rewarded those who laboured well in the public cause, by giving them triumphs and all the other honours she was wont to bestow on her citizens, while she condemned those who under various pretexts sought by private means to acquire greatness, and ordered them to be prosecuted; and, should this not suffice owing to the populace being dazzled by a kind of spurious goodness, she appointed a dictator who by using his royal prerogative should constrain them to return to the fold they had deserted, as she did to punish Spurius Maelius. For should anything of this kind be left unpunished, it is liable to ruin a republic, since to restore it to normal life is difficult after such an example has been set.

Book Three, Discourse 29. That the Faults of Peoples are due to Princes (68)

Princes ought not to complain of any fault committed by the peoples whom they govern, because such faults are due either to their negligence or to their being themselves sullied by similar defects. Those who talk about the peoples of our day being given up to robbery and similar vices, will find that they are all due to the fact that those who ruled them behaved in like manner. The Romagna, before Pope Alexander VI got rid of the lords who ruled it, exemplified the very worst types of behaviour, for it was apparent to every one that every least occasion was followed by killings and wholesale rapine. It was the wickedness of the princes that gave rise to this, not the wicked nature of man, as people said. For the princes who were poor, yet desired to live like rich men, of necessity had frequent recourse to robberies of one kind or another. One of the dishonourable means they adopted, was to make laws forbidding this action or that. They were then the first to provide occasion for the non-observance of these laws, but never punished the delinquents until they saw that a considerable number were involved in the same predicament. They then had recourse to punishment, not out of zeal for the laws they had made, but out of cupidity, that they might collect the fines imposed.

This gave rise to numerous inconveniences, of which the worst was that it impoverished the people without amending them, and that those who were impoverished sought to get the better of their weaker brethren. It was in this way that there arose all the evils mentioned above, and it was the prince who was responsible for them. That this is so Titus Livy shows in the account he gives of the Roman legates who took the gifts of booty from Veii to the temple of Apollo. They were captured by corsairs of Lipari in Sicily, whither they were taken. When Timasitheus, their leader, heard what the gifts were for, whither they were going and who had sent them, though a native of Lipari, he behaved as if he was a Roman, pointing out to the populace that it was impious to seize such gifts; with the result that, with everybody’s consent, he let the legates go with all they had with them. The comment made by the historian is this: ‘Timasitheus instilled religion into the masses, who always resemble their ruler.’ This is confirmed by a remark of Lorenzo de’ Medici, who says: What the prince does the many also soon do, For to their eyes the Prince is ever in view.

Book Three, Discourse 30. (i) It is necessary for a Citizen who proposes to use his Authority to do any Good Work in a Republic first to extinguish all Envy; and (ii) what Provisions are to be made for the Defence of a City which the Enemy is about to attack

When the Roman senate heard that all Tuscany had made a new levy for the invasion and destruction of Rome and that the Latins and the Hernici, who had hitherto been allies of the Roman people, had come to terms with the Volsci, Rome’s perpetual enemies, it was of opinion that the war would be a hazardous affair. Moreover, since Camillus happened then to be a tribune with consular power, the senate thought it should be possible to manage without appointing a dictator, provided the other tribunes, his colleagues, would entrust him with the supreme command. This the said tribunes did willingly. ‘Nor,’ says Titus Livy, ‘did anybody deem it derogatory to his authority, to subordinate it to his.’ Camillus, therefore, on receiving their promise of obedience, ordered that three armies should be enrolled. Of the first he decided himself to take command and to march against the Tuscans. He appointed Quintus Servilius to the command of the second, which was to remain near Rome to impede the Latins and the Hernici, should they make a move. Over the third army he put Lucius Quintius with orders to protect the city, and to defend the gates and the senate-house in any eventuality that should arise. In addition to this, he gave Horatius, one of his colleagues, charge of providing the arms and the corn and other things requisite in time of war. And yet another of his colleagues, Cornelius, he appointed president of the senate and of the public council to advise it on the actions which had to be taken and carried out day by day. Thus the tribunes in those days with a view to the safety of their country were prepared both to command and to obey.

We see in this incident what a good and wise man may do, how much good he may occasion, and what great advantages he can bring to his country when, thanks to his goodness and his virtue, he has got rid of envy, which is so often the cause why men cannot do good since it prevents them from acquiring that authority which they must needs have if they are to deal with important matters. Envy may be got rid of in two ways. Either by some serious misfortune, difficult to deal with, in which everybody sees disaster ahead and so, dropping any ambition, hastens to obey one whose virtue promises him freedom. This happened in the case of Camillus, for, since he had given such proof of his excellence and, having thrice been dictator, had always administered that office to the benefit of the public, not in his own interests, no one feared his having great power, nor, in view of his deservedly great reputation, thought it an indignity to serve under him.

Hence the remark which Titus Livy shrewdly makes: ‘Nor did anybody’ … etc. The other way in which envy is removed is when, either by violence or in the natural course, those are removed who were your rivals in the contest for fame and power; for, as long as such men see that your reputation is greater than theirs, they will never remain quiet and bear it with patience. Moreover, should such men have been used to living in a corrupt city in which education had not done them any good, it is impossible for any misfortune to convert them to a better state of mind. Rather would they see their country ruined than fail to obtain their ends and satisfy their perverse mentality. To overcome envy of this kind the only remedy lies in the death of those who are imbued with it. When fortune so favours the virtuous man as to bring about their death in the ordinary course, there is no scandal, and he becomes famous by being able to display his virtue without obstacle or offence. But when this does not happen, it behoves him to devise some way of getting rid of the persons in question, and he should take steps to overcome the difficulty before doing anything else.

He who reads the Bible with discernment will see that, in order that Moses might set about making laws and institutions, he had to kill a very great number of men who, out of envy and nothing else, were opposed to his plans. The need for this was clearly recognized by Friar Girolamo Savonarola and also by Piero Soderini, the Gonfalonier of Florence. But one of them, namely, the Friar, was unable to overcome the difficulty, for he lacked the requisite authority, and those of his followers who might have had the authority for it, did not get his meaning right. It was not, however, his fault that this did not happen and his sermons were full of indictments against the wise of this world, and of invectives against them; and by ‘the wise of this world’ he meant those who were envious and were opposed to his ordinances. The other believed that his goodness, the favour of fortune, and his beneficence towards all, in time would extinguish envy. For in view of his being as yet fairly young and of how much favour he had recently gained by his method of governing, he thought he would be able to get the better of those who through envy were opposing him, without either scandal, violence or disturbance. What he failed to realize was that time waits for no man, that goodness alone does not suffice, that fortune is changeable and that malice is not to be placated by gifts. So that both these men were ruined, and in both cases their downfall was due to their not knowing how, or not being able, tovercome envy.

Another noteworthy point about Camillus is the arrangements he made for the defence of Rome, both within and without. It is, indeed, not without reason that good historians, such as our author, give a particularly detailed account of certain incidents that posterity may learn how to defend itself in like situations. And in this it should be observed that no defence is more dangerous or more futile than one that is tumultuous and without order. This is shown by the third army which Camillus caused to be enrolled and left in Rome to guard the city. For many might have thought, and still may think, that his action here was superfluous, since the people were in any case armed and were warlike. Hence it would seem that there was no need of a further enrolment, but that it would have sufficed to hand out the arms when the need arose. But Camillus thought otherwise, and so will anyone else who is as wise as he; for the masses ought never to be allowed to take up arms except under definite instructions and conditions.

From the example of Camillus, therefore, one learns that he to whom the guardianship of a city has been entrusted, should avoid as he would a rock the giving of arms to a tumultuous crowd. Instead, he should first select and enrol those whom he wishes to bear arms, and whom they obey in all things; and those whom he has not enrolled he should order to stay at home and look after their houses. He who orders things in this way can easily defend a city that is attacked; but he who acts otherwise, and declines to emulate Camillus, will not be able to defend it.

Book Three, Discourses 31–5: Equanimity, Insurrection, Confidence, Electioneering and the Tendering of Advice

Book Three, Discourse 31. Strong Republics and Outstanding Men retain their Equanimity and their Dignity under all Circumstances

Among the other splendid things which our historian makes Camillus say and do in order to show how an outstanding man should behave he puts into Camillus’ mouth these words: ‘The dictatorship did not elate me, nor did exile depress me.’ One sees here how great men remain the same whatever befalls. If fortune changes, sometimes raising them, sometimes casting them down, they do not change, but remain ever resolute, so resolute in mind and in conduct throughout life that it is easy for anyone to see that fortune holds no sway over them. Not so do weak men behave; for by good fortune they are buoyed up and intoxicated, and ascribe such success as they meet with, to a virtue they never possessed, so that they become insupportable and odious to all who have anything to do with them. This then brings about a sudden change in their lot, the prospect of which causes them to go to the other extreme and to become base and abject. Hence it comes about that rulers so built prefer to run away rather than to defend themselves in adversity, just as do men who find themselves defenceless because they have misused the good fortune they had.

These virtues and these vices, which are found as I have been saying in a particular man, are also found in a republic; of which the Romans and the Venetians provide us with examples. No bad luck ever made the first become abject, nor did good fortune ever make them arrogant. This is manifest from their behaviour after the defeat at Cannae, and after the victory they gained over Antiochus. For though the defeat was very serious since it was their third, they never became disheartened; but kept their armies in the field; declined to redeem those who had allowed themselves to be taken prisoners, contrary to their practice, did not send emissaries to Hannibal or to Carthage to sue for peace; but, dispensing with any such abject steps as these, devoted their whole attention to the war, and, owing to shortage of men, armed both the old and their slaves. When Hanno, the Carthaginian, came to hear of this, he pointed out to the Carthaginian senate – as we have remarked above, what small account the Romans made of the defeat at Cannae. Hence it is clear that in trying times the Romans were not despondent, nor were they humbled. Nor, on the other hand, did prosperous times make them arrogant; for when Antiochus sent envoys to Scipio to ask for terms prior to the battle in which he was finally defeated, Scipio laid down the following as his conditions for peace: that Antiochus should withdraw into Syria and that the rest should be left to the decision of the Roman people. These terms Antiochus having rejected, a battle took place, and having lost it, he sent to Scipio envoys commissioned to accept all the conditions which the victors should lay down. Whereupon Scipio proposed precisely the same terms as those he had offered before he won, and then remarked ‘that the Romans, when beaten, do not lose courage, nor, when they win, do they become arrogant’.

The Venetians we find doing just the opposite of this. To them it seemed that their good fortune was due to a virtue which they did not in fact possess. Moreover, so arrogant did they become that they called the king of France a ‘son of St Mark’, showed no respect for the Church, had their eye by no means on Italy alone, but had already made up their minds to set up a monarchy similar to that of Rome. Then, when good luck deserted them and a partial defeat was inflicted on them at Vaila by the king of France, they lost the whole of their dominions, not merely through rebellions, but a goodly portion of them they gave to the Pope and to the king of Spain out of sheer dejection and despondency of mind. So dispirited, indeed, were they that they sent ambassadors to the Emperor offering to become his tributaries, and wrote grovelling and abject letters to the Pope to stir up his compassion. To reach which unhappy state it took them four days, and yet it was but a partial defeat they had suffered; for, after the engagement, in the fighting which took place during the retreat of their army only about half their forces were engaged, so that one of their commissioners who escaped, reached Verona with more than twenty-five thousand troops, comprising both foot and cavalry. Hence, if in Venice and in Venetian institutions there had been any sort of virtue they could easily have pulled themselves together and tried their luck again, this time either to win or to lose with greater glory, or to come to an agreement on more honourable terms. But their pusillanimity, which arose from their institutions being ill adapted for war, made them lose at one stroke alike their dominions and their courage.

It will always happen thus to any state governed as was theirs. For this arrogance in prosperity and dejection in adversity is due to the way you behave and to the education you have received; which, if it be feeble and futile, makes you the same, and if it be of the other kind, makes you another sort of person, i.e. makes you know the world better and so be less exhilarated in good times and less depressed in bad. And what I say of the individual here may be said also of the many who live together in one and the same republic, for they are fashioned to the same state of perfection as characterizes that republic’s mode of life.

Although I have said elsewhere that the security of all states is based on good military discipline, and that where it does not exist, there can neither be good laws nor anything else that is good, to repeat this does not seem to me superfluous; for the need for this discipline is apparent on every page in Livy’s history, where one sees that the soldiery cannot be good unless they are in training, and that it is impossible to train them unless they are your own subjects. For, since no soldiery is always at war, nor yet can be, it is important to train it in time of peace; but this training is impossible on account of the cost except in the case of your own subjects.

When Camillus led forth an army to fight the Tuscans, as we have said above, and his soldiers saw how large was the army of the enemy, they were terrified, for so inferior did they feel themselves to be that it looked to them as if they could not possibly withstand their attack. When it came to the ears of Camillus that the men in camp were so ill disposed to fight, he appeared among them and, going about the camp talking to this group of soldiers and that, drove this notion out of their heads. Finally, without issuing any further orders to those in camp, he merely said: ‘Let each man do what he has been taught to do or has been accustomed to do.’ If we consider carefully this plan of action and the words used to encourage the men to go and fight the enemy, it is clear that neither could such words have been used nor the army have been induced to do any such thing unless that army had already been trained and drilled both in peace-time and in war. For on soldiers who have not learned how to do anything, no general can rely, confident that anything they may do will be well done. Even should a second Hannibal command such troops he would in that case go under. For, since during a battle a general cannot be everywhere, he will inevitably meet with disaster unless he has already so drilled every unit that it has imbibed his spirit and is well acquainted with his practice and mode of procedure.

If then a city be armed and disciplined as Rome was, and all its citizens, alike in their private and official capacity, have a chance to put alike their virtue and the power of fortune to the test of experience, it will be found that always and in all circumstances they will be of the same mind and will maintain their dignity in the same way. But, when they are not familiar with arms and trust merely to the whim of fortune, not to their own virtue, they will change with the changes of fortune and will display in all cases the characteristics exemplified by the Venetians.

Book Three, Discourse 32. What Means some have adopted to prevent a Peace

There were two Roman colonies, Circei and Velitrae, which had rebelled against the Roman people in the hope that the Latins might support them.

When the Latins were beaten and this hope disappeared, many citizens urged that envoys should be sent to Rome to plead their cause with the senate. This advice was strenuously opposed by those responsible for the rebellion, since they feared that all the blame would fall on their heads. To remove any discussion of peace, they incited the masses to take up arms and to cross the Roman frontiers. And it is, indeed, true that, should anyone want to remove from the mind of a people or a prince all idea of coming to terms, there is no more certain or more reliable way than to get them to commit a grave outrage of this kind against the party with which you do not want them to come to terms; for in all such cases the fear of the punishment which the offender will think his fault merits, will keep him away from the other.

After the first war the Carthaginians had with the Romans, the troops which had been employed by the Carthaginians during the war in Sicily and Sardinia, went to Africa when peace had been declared. Where, being dissatisfied with their pay, they induced the troops to revolt against the Carthaginians: appointed two of themselves as commanders, Matho and Spendius; seized a considerable number of Carthaginian towns, and sacked many of them. The Carthaginians, desiring at first to try other expedients in preference to war, sent to them one of their citizens, Hasdrubal, as ambassador, for they thought he would have some influence with them since formerly he had been their general. When the latter arrived, Spendius and Matho determined to deprive all the soldiers of any hope of ever coming to terms with the Carthaginians that thus they might be forced to fight. So they persuaded them that the best thing to do was to kill Hasdrubal together with all the Carthaginian citizens who were with them as their prisoners. In consequence they not only killed them, but first inflicted on them all manner of tortures; and to this outrage added an edict to the effect that all Carthaginians would be killed in the same way, should they happen to take them. This edict and the enforcement of it made that army cruel and steadfast in its opposition to the Carthaginians.

Book Three, Discourse 33. To win a Battle it is essential to inspire the Army with Confidence both in Itself and in its General

If an army is to win the day it is essential to give it confidence so as to make it feel sure that it must win, whatever happens. The conditions on which such confidence depends are that the troops should be well armed, well disciplined and well acquainted with each other. Nor can there be this confidence or this discipline unless among soldiers who are natives of the same country and have lived together. It is important, too, that the general should be so esteemed for his qualities that the men have confidence in him, and this they will always do when they see that he is always on the alert, is solicitous and courageous, and that he knows well how to uphold the dignity of his position and to maintain his reputation; which he can always do if he punishes men for their mistakes, does not impose on them unnecessary burdens, keeps the promises he has made them, and points out how easy it is to win, concealing or making light of things, which when viewed from afar, might suggest danger. Such things, when duly observed, are the principal causes of an army’s morale, and – through its morale – of its victory.

The Romans used to inspire their armies with this confidence by means of religion. Hence it came about that they used auguries and auspices in appointing consuls, in enrolling troops, and when their armies were setting forth or were about to join battle. And, if he had omitted any of these things a good and wise general would never undertake any action of moment, since he thought he might easily lose unless his troops had first been assured that the gods were on their side. So, too, if any consul or other general had engaged in battle contrary to the auspices, they would punish him, as they punished Claudius Pulcher. There is abundant evidence of this throughout the whole of Roman history, but to clinch the matter we have the words which Livy puts into the mouth of Appius Claudius. When he was complaining to the people of the insolence of the plebeian tribunes, and showing how it was through their fault that the auspices and other things pertaining to their religion were growing corrupt, he spoke thus: ‘Nowadays they are allowed to mock at religious rites; what does it matter if the chickens don’t eat, if they are too slow in coming out of their pens, or if one of the birds clucks? They are small things, but it was by not despising small things that our ancestors made this republic as great as it is.’ For it is in such small things that resides the power of keeping soldiers united and confident – which is the primary cause of victory. It is important, none the less, that such things should be accompanied by virtù, otherwise they are of no avail.

The Praenestines who had sent out an army to attack the Romans, went to the Allia and set up their camp on its banks in the place where the Romans had been beaten by the Gauls. They did this to give their troops confidence and that the Romans might be discouraged by the misfortune associated with the place. But, though this course was to be approved of for the reasons set forth above, the upshot of the affair none the less showed that true valour is not set at nought by every trifling circumstance. This is expressed very neatly in the words the historian puts into the mouth of the dictator, who said to his master of horse: ‘You notice that those fellows yonder, trusting to fortune, have taken up a position on the Allia! You put your trust in your arms and in your courage and go straight for them!’ For true virtù, good discipline and a sense of security born of many victories, cannot be dissipated by things of little moment, nor can vain imaginings make men of such calibre afraid, nor yet a mishap do them harm. This is clearly seen in the case of the two Manlii: for, when as consuls they were at war with the Volsci, and had rashly sent a detachment from their camp on a foraging expedition, it came about that those who had gone and those who remained found themselves besieged at the same time, and it was not the skill of the consuls but the valour of the troops themselves that extricated them from the danger. Upon which Titus Livy makes this remark: ‘Tried virtù is safe even when troops are without a leader.’

Nor must I omit to mention an expedient used by Fabius to inspire confidence when leading his army for the first time into Tuscany. Since the country into which he had led it was new and he was attacking new foes, it was all the more necessary, he thought, that the troops should feel confidence; so before the battle he addressed them, pointing out that there were many reasons why they should expect a victory, and adding that he could tell them also of something specially good from which they would see that victory was certain, were it not dangerous to mention it. This was a clever expedient to adopt and is well worth imitating.

Book Three, Discourse 34. What Kind of Reputation or Gossip or Opinion causes the Populace to begin to favour a Particular Citizen; and whether the Populace appoints to Offices with Greater Prudence than does a Prince

We have spoken elsewhere of how Titus Manlius, afterwards called Torquatus, procured the acquittal of his father, Lucius Manlius, from a charge brought against him by Marcus Pomponius, the tribune of the plebs. Though the means he took to save him were somewhat violent and extraordinary, yet his filial devotion was so pleasing to the people at large that, not only was he not condemned, but at a subsequent election of tribunes for the legions Titus Manlius obtained the second appointment. In regard to his success, I think it well to reflect on the way in which the populace estimates the merits of candidates for election, and to consider how far the conclusion drawn above is true, namely that the populace is a better judge in appointing to office than is a prince.

I claim, then, that the populace in choosing between candidates relies on common gossip and on their reputation when it has otherwise no knowledge of them based on noteworthy deeds; or else on some preconceived opinion it has formed of them. In both cases reliance is placed on the fact that their fathers were men of standing who did much for the city, it being assumed that their sons should be like them unless their actions indicate the contrary; or else reliance is placed upon what is said about the way they behave. The points which count most in their behaviour are that they should be known to associate with seriously minded persons, of good habits, and whom everybody esteems as prudent men. For nothing indicates more plainly what a man is than the company he keeps. The man who associates with honest people deservedly acquires a good name, for it is impossible but that he be of the same kidney. Or, again, a reputation with the public may be gained by some out-of-the-way and conspicuous action which, though of a private character, has brought you honourable notice. Of all three ways in which good repute may at the start be obtained, none is more effectual than this last. For the first, in which reputation is based on the doings of relatives and ancestors, is so unreliable that men are slow to accept it and it evaporates unless accompanied by virtue on the part of the person concerned. The second way, in which you become known by way of the company you keep, is better than the first, but not nearly so good as the third. For until you give some indication of what you can do, your reputation is based only on opinion, which may quite easily prove to be wrong. But the third way, since it originates in, and is based on, facts and on what you have actually done, gives you at the start so great a name that you would have to do much that belied your character before your reputation vanished.

Men who are born in a republic, therefore, ought to adopt this course, and to try, by doing things out of the ordinary, to rise above the rank and file. In Rome many did this in their youth by promulgating some law promoting the public good; or by attacking some powerful citizen for violating the laws; or by doing some other such new and remarkable thing as might occasion talk. Not only are such things necessary at the outset to gain a reputation; they are also necessary to maintain it and to augment it. To do this, such actions must be repeated, as they were by Titus Manlius throughout the whole of his life. For he obtained his early reputation by defending his father so virtuously and in so odd a way. Some years later he fought with that Gaul, and, after killing him, took off him that golden collar which gave him the name Torquatus. Nor was this all, for later, when he grew up, he killed his son for having engaged in battle without permission, though he had beaten the enemy. These three deeds gave him a greater name at the time, and made him more celebrated for all time, than any triumph did, or any other victory, though he was as successful in this respect as any other Roman. The reason is that in respect of these other victories very many resembled Manlius, but with respect to his particular actions very few or none.

All his triumphs did not win such glory for Scipio the Elder as did his youthful act of defending his father on the Ticinus, or the oath which with drawn sword he in his fervour made several young men take not to desert Italy after the defeat at Cannae, as some of them had already resolved to do. The beginning of his reputation rested on these two actions, which served as stepping-stones to the triumphs of Spain and of Africa. And his repute was still further increased when in Spain he sent back a daughter to her father and a wife to her husband. This type of conduct is not only necessary to such citizens as desire to acquire fame with a view to obtaining positions of honour in their republic; it is also necessary to princes who wish to keep up their reputation in a principality; for nothing makes a prince so esteemed as when by some singular deed or saying bearing on the common good, he himself sets a striking example which shows his lordship to be either magnanimous or liberal or just, and which is such that it can be circulated in the form of a proverb among his subjects.

But to return to the point first mentioned in this discourse. I maintain that when the populace first assigns some office to one of its citizens, their choice has not a bad basis if it rests on the three grounds aforesaid. But it has a better one, if numerous instances of good conduct have made the person noteworthy, for in that case it is hardly ever possible to make a mistake. I am speaking only of those offices which are given to men early on, before definite experience has been gained as to their character, or they have done something which has changed it for the worse. And here, in regard to forming a false opinion, or judging as to the likelihood of deterioration, the populace always makes fewer mistakes than do princes. Yet, because it is possible for the populace to be deceived in regard to a man’s fame or repute or actions, esteeming them to be greater than they are – a mistake that a prince does not make since he should be told of them and warned by his advisers – and so that a populace also may not lack such counsel, good legislators in founding republics have provided that, when an appointment has to be made to the higher offices in the city to which it would be dangerous to appoint incompetent men, and when it looks as if the popular fancy were inclined to appoint an incompetent person, it shall be lawful, and indeed glorious, for any citizen to broadcast the candidate’s defects so that the people, knowing them, may be better advised.

That this was the custom in Rome the speech of Fabius Maximus attests. He delivered it before the people during the second Punic war, when there was question of appointing consuls and Titus Otacilius was a prime favourite for the post. Fabius thought him not the man to hold the consulate in those times, spoke against him, and pointed out his incompetence with such effect that he kept him out of it and induced the populace to favour one who deserved it more. In appointing to offices, therefore, the populace judges according to the best advice available better substantiated, and, where it can get advice as a prince can, it makes few mistakes than does a prince. So the citizen who contemplates winning popular favour should make sure of it by doing something remarkable, as Titus Manlius did.

Book Three, Discourse 35. What Dangers are run by one who takes the Lead in advising some Course of Action; and how much greater are the Dangers incurred when the Course of Action is Unusual

How dangerous it is to take the lead in a new enterprise in which many may be concerned, and how difficult it is to handle and direct it, and once directed on its way, to keep it going, would be too long and too deep a topic for us to discuss here. Reserving it, therefore, for a more convenient place,69 I shall here speak only of the dangers incurred by citizens or by those advising a prince to take the lead in some grave and important matter in such a way that for the whole of this advice they may be held responsible. For men judge of actions by the result. Hence for all the ill that results from an enterprise the man who advised it is blamed, and, should the result be good, commended; but the reward by no means weighs the same as the loss.

The present Sultan, Selim, called the Great Turk, had – according to those who have lately returned from his dominions – made preparations to invade Syria and Egypt, when he was strongly advised by one of his pashas whom he had posted on the frontiers of Persia, to attack the Sophy. Acting on this advice, he set forth on the enterprise with a very large force. On reaching a broad expanse of open country where there were many deserts but few streams, he found himself in the very difficulty that had proved fatal to many a Roman army; so much so that, though he was victorious in the war, he lost through famine and pestilence the greater part of his troops. Hence he was angry with the person who had advised him, and put him to death.

We read of many citizens who, having promoted some undertaking that turned out badly, were sent into exile. It was owing to some Roman citizens who took the lead that a plebeian consul was first appointed in Rome. It then happened that the first time he led forth the armies he was beaten. Consequently those who had advised the appointment would have been in trouble, had they not been protected by the party in whose interests the appointment had been made.

The advisers of a republic and the counsellors of a prince are undoubtedly in a difficult position; for, unless they recommend the course which in their honest opinion will prove advantageous to that city or to that prince regardless of consequences, they fail to fulfill the duties of their office, while, if they recommend it, they are risking their lives and endangering their position, since all men in such matters are blind and judge advice to be good or bad according to its result. Nor do I see any way of avoiding either the infamy or the danger other than by putting the case with moderation instead of assuming responsibility for it, and by stating one’s views dispassionately and defending them alike dispassionately and modestly; so that, if the city or the prince accepts your advice, he does so of his own accord, and will not seem to have been driven to it by your importunity. If you act thus, it is unreasonable for a prince or a people to wish you ill on account of your advice, since it has not been adopted against the will of the majority. Danger is incurred only when many have opposed you, and, the result being unfortunate, they combine to bring about your downfall. And, though, in the case we have taken, there is lacking the glory which comes to the man who in opposition to the many, alone advocates a certain course which turns out well, it has two advantages. First, it does not entail danger. Secondly, if you tender your advice with modesty, and the opposition prevents its adoption, and, owing to someone else’s advice being adopted, disaster follows, you will acquire very great glory. And, though you cannot rejoice in the glory that comes from disasters which befall your city or your prince, it at any rate counts for something.

I do not think any further recommendations can be made on this point, for, if one recommended men to be silent and not to express their views, this would be no use to the republic or to their prince; nor would danger thereby be eliminated, for before long they would become suspect, and that might happen which happened to some friends of Perseus, king of Macedonia. He had been defeated by Paulus Aemilius, and had escaped with a few of his friends. While they were reviewing what had taken place, it happened that one of them began to tell Perseus of the many mistakes he had made, and how they had been the cause of his undoing. At which Perseus was so annoyed that he said: ‘Traitor, for you have delayed until now to speak of what I cannot undo!’ On saying which, he killed him with his own hands. Thus was a man punished for keeping silent when he ought to have spoken, and for speaking when he ought to have been silent; so that he didn’t avoid danger by not giving his advice. Hence it is best, I think, to keep to, and to act on, the lines laid down above.

Book Three, Discourses 36–39: Advice to Generals in the Field

Book Three, Discourse 36. Reasons why the French have been, and still are, looked upon in the Beginning of a Battle as more than Men, and afterwards as less than Women

The ardoura of the Gaul who challenged any Roman on the banks of the river Anio to single combat, which led to a fight between him and Titus Manlius, reminds me of what Titus Livy several times says of the Gauls, namely, that in the beginning of a battle they are more than men, but in the fighting that follows they turn out worse than women. As to how this comes about, many think that nature has made them so, which is no doubt true, but it does not follow from this that the nature which makes them ardent at the start could not be so regulated by rules as to keep them ardent right up to the end.

In proof of this let me point out that armies are of three types. In the first there is both ardourb and order. Now order promotes both ardour and virtù as it did in the case of the Romans; for, during the whole course of their history one finds that there was good order in their armies, which military discipline of long standing had introduced. In a well-disciplined army, no one should perform any action except in accordance with regulations. Hence in the Roman army – which, since it conquered the world, should be taken as a model by all other armies – we find that no one ate or slept or went wenching or performed any other action, military or domestic, without instructions from the consul. Armies which act otherwise are not true armies; and if they do anything of note they do it through ardour and impetuosity, not through valour. But when disciplined virtù uses its ardour in the right way and at the right time, no difficulties dismay an army or cause it to lose courage. For good discipline stimulates courage and ardour, in that it strengthens the hope of victory, which is never wanting so long as discipline remains.

The opposite of all this happens in those armies in which there is ardour but no discipline, as was the case with the Gauls, who in their fighting were wholly lacking in method; for if their first attack did not succeed, they faltered, since the ardour on which they relied was not sustained by disciplined valour, and there was nothing else on which they could rely when their ardour cooled. The Romans, on the other hand, made light of dangers since their discipline was good; and, since they did not despair of victory, they remained firm and dogged, and fought with the same courage and the same virtù at the end as at the start; nay, when stimulated by a fight, they always grew more ardent.

The third type of army is one in which there exists neither a natural ardour, nor yet discipline to supplement it; as is the case with Italian armies in our day, which are quite useless and never win unless they come across an army which happens for some reason to run away. There is no need to cite further instances, since every day they afford evidence of how utterly lacking they are in valour. So that, however, what Titus Livy says may make it plain to all how good soldiery should be made and how worthless soldiery are made, I propose to cite the speech which Papirius Cursor made when he wanted to reprove Fabius, his master of horse. What he said was: ‘No one would have respect either for men or for the gods; they would obey neither the edicts of generals nor the auspices; soldiers without provisions, would wander about here and there alike in peaceful and in hostile territory; forgetful of their oath, they would discharge themselves from the army without authority and when it pleased them; they would leave the colours almost unguarded, and neither assemble nor dismiss at the word of command; they would fight by day or night whether the place were suitable or unsuitable, and with or without orders from the general; they would keep neither to their regiments nor to their ranks; but, like a band of robbers, were a blind and tumultuous, rather than a disciplined and dutiful, soldiery.’ And in this passage applied, it will at once be seen whether the soldiery of our day is blind and tumultuous or disciplined and dutiful, and how far it falls short of what we commonly call soldiery, and how far removed it is from being either ardent and disciplined, like the Romans, or just simply ardent, like the Gauls.

Book Three, Discourse 37. Whether Skirmishes are Necessary before a Battle, and how, if one decides to do without them, the Presence of Fresh Enemy Troops is to be discovered

It would appear that in human affairs, as we have remarked in other discourses, there is, in addition to others, this difficulty: that, when one wants to bring things to the pitch of perfection, one always finds that, bound up with what is good, there is some evil which is so easily brought about in doing good that it would seem to be impossible to have the one without the other. This is the case in everything that man does. And it is because of it that the good is with difficulty attained unless you are so aided by fortune that fortune itself eliminates this normal and natural inconvenience. What moves me to say this is the fight Manlius had with the Gaul, of which Titus Livy says: ‘This conflict was of great moment to the outcome of the whole war, for the army of the Gauls in trepidation deserted their camp and moved first into Tiburtine territory, and then into Campania’; for I hold, on the one hand, that a good general ought to avoid at all costs doing anything which, though in itself of small moment, can produce a bad effect on his army; because to engage in a battle in which all one’s forces are not employed and thereby to risk one’s whole fortune, is extremely rash, as I said above when I was talking about guarding passes.

On the other hand, I hold that when wise generals find they are up against a new enemy who has acquired a reputation, it is essential that, before engaging in a pitched battle, they let their troops find out by means of skirmishes what he is worth; so that, having acquired some knowledge of him and of how to deal with him, it may dispel the fears to which rumour and his standing had given rise. For a general to do this is of the utmost importance; for there is in this course a quasi-necessity that constrains you to adopt it, since you can scarce fail to see that you are plainly exposing yourself to disaster if you engage the enemy without having first provided your troops with some little experiment whereby to rid them of that fear which the enemy’s reputation had aroused in their minds.

Valerius Corvinus was in command of the armies which the Romans had dispatched to deal with the Samnites, new enemies, of whose fighting capacities the Romans had thus far had no experience in actual combat one with the other. Hence Titus Livy says that Valerius caused the Romans to engage in some skirmishes with the Samnites ‘so that they might be afraid neither of the new war nor of the new enemy’. None the less, there is a very great danger that, if your soldiers get the worst of the skirmishing it will increase their fear and their cowardice, and so will produce the opposite effect to that you had in mind; i.e. you will have alarmed them, whereas you wanted to make them feel safe. So that this is just one of those things in which evil is so closely associated with good, and so bound up are they one with the other, that it may easily happen that he who thinks he will get one, gets the other.

In regard, then, to this, I maintain that a good general should take every precaution to prevent the occurrence of any untoward event likely to diminish the courage of his army. But to begin by losing is just the thing that is likely to diminish its courage. Hence he should act cautiously in regard to skirmishes, and should not permit them unless he has a great advantage and he feels sure he will be victorious. Nor should he attempt to guard passes where he cannot bring the whole of his army into operation. Nor yet should he defend towns unless their loss will inevitably entail his ruin. And, if he does defend them, he should arrange for his army to cooperate with the garrison in repelling an attack, so that in dealing with the siege all his forces may be brought into play; otherwise he should leave the town undefended. For in losing what may be abandoned, provided his army is still intact, he will not in such a case lose either his reputation in the war or the hope of winning it; but when you lose what you have planned to defend and everybody knows that you were defending it, the loss is serious and may be disastrous; in fact, you may, like the Gauls, on account of something of small moment have lost the war.

Philip of Macedon, the father of Perseus, a soldier of high standing in his day, when attacked by the Romans, abandoned and laid waste a large part of his country which he judged it impossible to defend, for, being a prudent man, he thought it more disastrous to lose his reputation by failing to defend what he had set out to defend, than to let it fall into the hands of the enemy as if it were a thing he did not mind losing. When after the defeat at Cannae the affairs of the Romans were in a bad way, they declined to help many of their dependents and subjects, bidding them defend themselves as best they could. Such courses are much better than taking up the defence of allies and then letting them down, for in that case one loses both one’s allies and one’s forces; but in the other the allies alone are lost.

But to return to skirmishing, I maintain that if a general is absolutely compelled to have recourse to skirmishes because his enemy is a new one, he should only undertake them when he has so considerable an advantage that there will be no danger of his losing thereby. He should, otherwise, – and it is the better course – do as Marius did when he went to fight the Cimbri, a fierce tribe which had come to prey upon Italy and which he was approaching with considerable trepidation owing to their ferocity and their numbers, and because they had already defeated a Roman army. Judging it necessary before engaging in battle to do something which would dispel the panic into which fear of the enemy had thrown his army, like a prudent general, he more than once stationed his army in a position near to which the army of the Cimbri must pass, with the intention that from behind the fortifications of their camp, his troops should look at and accustom their eyes to the enemy’s appearance, so that when they saw what a disorderly crowd they were, encumbered with baggage, their arms useless and some without arms, they might be reassured and become eager for the fight. This course so wisely adopted by Marius, others should diligently imitate, so as not to incur the dangers I have described above, and not to have to act as the Gauls did, ‘who, in trepidation on account of an event of small moment, moved first into Tiburtine territory and then into Campania’.

Since we have in this discourse mentioned Valerius Corvinus, I propose in the next chapter to use his speech to show how a general should behave.

Book Three, Discourse 38. What ought to be done by a General so that his Army may have Confidence in him

Valerius corvinus, as we have said above, had gone with the army to fight the Samnites, enemies new to the Roman people; so, to give his troops assurance and some acquaintance with the foe, he caused them to make a few skirmishes, and, since this was not enough, he decided to address them before the battle, and to point out as forcefully as he could how little esteem they should have for such a foe, appealing in his speech alike to the valour of his soldiers and to his own. From the speech which Livy makes him deliver, one may learn how a general should act if his army is to have confidence in him. What he says is this: ‘Look at the man under whose leadership and auspices you are going to fight! Ask yourselves whether the person to whom you are about to listen is but a brilliant orator, valiant in words, but inexperienced in military matters, or whether he knows how to handle weapons, to advance before the colours, and to plunge right into the thick of the fight! I want you, my good men, to go by my actions, not my words, and to look to me not merely for orders, but for an example, for with this my right hand I have as a consul thrice won the highest praise.’ Anyone may learn from a speech such as this, if he ponder it well, how to act if he wants to occupy the rank of a general; and he who acts otherwise will find that his rank, whether it be by luck or by ambition that he has attained it, in due course will destroy, instead of making, his reputation; for it is not titles that make men illustrious, but men who make titles illustrious.

One ought again in what was said at the outset of this discourse to observe that if great generals have used extraordinary means to strengthen the courage of a veteran army when confronted with an enemy with which it is unfamiliar, much greater industry will have to be used when in command of a new army which has never been in sight of the enemy. For if an enemy with which an old army is unfamiliar fills it with terror, so much the more must this be the case when a new army faces any enemy at all. Actually, however, one finds that all these difficulties are usually overcome by good generals with consummate prudence, as they were overcome by Gracchus the Roman, and by Epaminondas the Theban, of whom we have spoken on other occasions, for with new armies they defeated veteran armies with plenty of experience.

The methods they adopted were to exercise the troops for several months and to accustom them to obey orders by means of sham fights, after which they had so much confidence in them that they took them to a real fight. No military man, therefore, should be diffident as to his ability to form a good army, when there is no lack of men; so that the prince who has an abundance of men, but lacks soldiers, should bewail not the cowardice of his men, but merely his own laziness and folly.

Book Three, Discourse 39. That a General ought to be acquainted with the Lie of the Land

Among other things essential to the commander of an army is a knowledge of terrains and of countries, for, unless he has this knowledge, alike general and detailed, no army commander can perform any operation well. Wherefore, just as all sciences demand practice if we desire to attain perfection in them, so this is one that calls for a good deal of practice. And this practice and this detailed knowledge is acquired more by hunting, than by any other exercises. Hence ancient writers tell us that the heroes who ruled the world in their day were brought up in the forests and on the chase. For the chase not only provides one with the requisite knowledge, but teaches one a host of other things that are essential in warfare. Thus, Xenophon, in his Life of Cyrus tells us how, when he was about to attack the king of Armenia, in appointing tasks he reminded those about him that it would be just like one of those hunting expeditions on which they had often accompanied him; and to those whom he sent to form an ambush in the mountains he said that they would be like men going to lay snares on the ridges; and to those who had to scour the countryside that they would be like men who went to rouse a wild beast from its lair so as, after hunting it, to drive it into the nets.

This I mention to show that Xenophon supports the view that a hunting expedition is very like a war, and that, consequently, great men look on this sport as honourable and necessary. Nor yet can a knowledge of the country be acquired in a more convenient way than by hunting, for the chase gives those who engage in it an exact knowledge of the lie of the land in which the sport takes place. It also enables one who has familiarized himself with one district, to grasp with ease the details of any new region. For all countries and all their parts have about them a certain uniformity, so that from the knowledge of one it is easy to pass to the knowledge of another; whereas he who has not acquired a good experience of any one, can with difficulty acquire a knowledge of another, and cannot acquire it at all unless he is there for a long time. A person who has had practice, for instance, will see at a glance how far this plain extends, to what height that mountain rises, where this valley goes, and everything else of this kind, for of it all he has already acquired a sound knowledge.{70}

That this is so Titus Livy shows us in the case of Publius Decius. When he was a tribune in charge of troops belonging to the army which the consul, Cornelius, commanded in the Samnite war, and the consul had led the Roman army into a valley where it could have been shut in by the Samnites, Decius saw the great danger to which it was exposed, and said to the consul: ‘Do you see, Aulus Cornelius, that peak above the enemy? It is in that height that lies our hope of safety if we take it quickly, the Samnites having stupidly neglected it.’ Also, before telling us what Decius said Titus Livy says: ‘Publius Decius, a military tribune, observed a hill which rose above a wooded ravine and threatened the enemy’s position, difficult of access to an army in marching order, but not difficult to light troops.’ Whereupon he was sent there by the consul with three thousand soldiers and so saved the Roman army. Then, when night came on, and he was thinking of departing so as to save both himself and his troops, Livy makes him use these words: ‘Come with me while the light holds, and let us reconnoitre the places in which the enemy has placed guards to see whether there is any way out.’ All of which he carried out clad in a small military cloak, lest the enemy should notice an officer wandering about.

This evidence all goes to show how useful and necessary it is for a general to know the nature of the country; for, if Decius had not been a prudent man and acquired such knowledge, he would not have been able to see how useful it was to the Roman army to take that hill, nor would he have been able to tell from a distance whether the hill was accessible or not; nor yet, when he had been sent to the top of it and wanted to get back to the consul, would he, with the enemy on all sides, have been able to spot from a distance the way to go and the places which the enemy was guarding. One is bound then to infer that Decius had such expert knowledge, and that it was this that enabled him to save the Roman army by taking the hill, and afterwards when he was surrounded there, to discover a route whereby both he and the troops that were with him could reach safety.

Book Three, Discourses 40–42: Salus Populi, Suprema Lex

Book Three, Discourse 40. That it is a Glorious Thing to use Fraud in the Conduct of a War

Although to use fraud71 in any action is detestable, yet in the conduct of a war it is praiseworthy and glorious. And a man who uses fraud to overcome his enemy is praised, just as much as is he who overcomes his enemy by force. This is seen in the judgement pronounced on great men by biographers, who praise Hannibal and others well known for this kind of behaviour. Of this one comes across so many examples that I shall not cite any, I will say but this, I do not mean that a fraud which involves breaking your word or the contracts you have made, is glorious; for, although on occasion it may win for you a state or a kingdom, as has been said in an earlier discourse, it will never bring you glory. I am speaking of fraud used in dealing with an enemy who has not kept faith with you, i.e., of the fraud which is involved in the conduct of a war; such as that which Hannibal used when at the Perugian lake he pretended flight in order to entrap the consul and the Roman army, and when, to escape from the hands of Fabius Maximus he lit up the horns of a herd of cattle.

To this class of fraud belongs that which was practised by Pontius, the general of the Samnites, that he might entrap the Roman army in the Caudine Forks. Having placed his army up against the mountains, he sent some of his soldiers, dressed as shepherds, with a flock of sheep across the plain. They were captured by the Romans, who asked where the Samnite army was. All agreed in saying what Pontius had told them to say, i.e., that it had gone to lay siege to Nocera. The credence given by the consuls to this report led to their being caught between the Caudine cliffs, where, when they got there, they were at once hemmed in by the Samnites. This victory, which Pontius gained by fraud, would have redounded greatly to his credit had he followed his father’s advice, which was that he should either let the Romans go scot-free or should slaughter them all, and that he should not take the middle course which ‘neither makes you friends, nor removes your enemies’; and this middle course has always been harmful in affairs of state, as I have already pointed out in another discourse.

Book Three, Discourse 41. That one’s Country should be defended whether it entail Ignominy or Glory, and that it is Good to defend it in any way whatsoever

The consul and the Roman army were surrounded by the Samnites, as has just been said. The Samnites had imposed on the Romans ignominious conditions. They were to pass under the yoke and to be sent back to Rome without their arms and equipment. At this the consuls being astonished and the whole army being in despair, Lucius Lentulus, the Roman legate, told them that it did not seem to him that they should reject any alternative in order to save their country; for, since the survival of Rome depended on the survival of this very army, it should be saved in any way that offered; and that it is good to defend one’s country in whatever way it be done, whether it entail ignominy or glory; for, if this army was saved, Rome might in time wipe out the ignominy; but that, if it were not saved and even if it should die gloriously, Rome and its freedom would be lost. So Lentulus’s advice was followed.

This counsel merits the attention of, and ought to be observed by, every citizen who has to give advice to his country. For when the safety of one’s country wholly depends on the decision to be taken, no attention should be paid either to justice or injustice, to kindness or cruelty, or to its being praiseworthy or ignominious. On the contrary, every other consideration being set aside, that alternative should be whole-heartedly adopted which will save the life and preserve the freedom of one’s country.

This is the course the French adopt – both in what they say and what they do – in order to defend the majesty of their king or the power of their kingdom; for no voice is heard with greater impatience than one that should say: ‘Such an alternative it would be ignominious for the king to adopt.’ No decision the king makes can be shameful, they say, whether it leads to good or to adverse fortune, for, whether he wins or loses is entirely his business, they claim.

Book Three, Discourse 42. That Promises extracted by Force ought not to be kept

When with an army that had been stripped of its arms and had suffered such ignominious treatment, the consuls returned to Rome, the first person to speak in the senate said that the peace made at Caudium ought not to be observed. This was the consul, Spurius Postumius. He said that the Roman people were not bound by it, but that he and the others who had promised peace, were bound by it. Hence, if the people wanted to be free from any obligation, they should send him and all those who had made the promise, back to the Samnites as prisoners. He defended this view with such tenacity that the senate yielded; sent him and the others as prisoners to Samnium, and protested to the Samnites that the peace was invalid. Fortune favoured Postumius in this case, for the Samnites did not keep him, and on his return to Rome he gained more glory in the eyes of the Romans by having surrendered than Pontius gained in the eyes of the Samnites by his victory.

Two things should here be noted. One is that glory can be gained by either kind of action, for it is acquired by victory in the ordinary course, and in defeat it is acquired if you can either show that the defeat was not your fault, or can at once perform some virtuous action which cancels it out. The other is that it is not shameful to fail to keep a promise which you have been forced to make. Forced promises affecting the public will, in fact, always be broken when the force in question is removed, and this without shame to those who break them. Everywhere in history one comes across examples of this of one kind or another, and everyone is aware that it happens also at the present day. And not only are forced promises not observed by princes when the force in question is no longer operative; but we also find that all other promises are broken when the reasons which caused such promises to be made no longer hold good. Whether this is praiseworthy or not, and whether a prince should or should not behave in this way, we have discussed at length in our treatise on The Prince. Here, therefore, nothing will be said about it.

Book Three, Discourses 43–48: Further Reflections Based on the Samnite Wars

Book Three, Discourse 43. That Men who are born in the same Country display throughout the Ages much the same Characteristics

Prudent men are wont to say – and this not rashly or without good ground – that he who would foresee what has to be, should reflect on what has been, for everything that happens in the world at any time has a genuine resemblance to what happened in ancient times. This is due to the fact that the agents who bring such things about are men, and that men have, and always have had, the same passions, whence it necessarily comes about that the same effects are produced.72 It is true that men’s deeds are sometimes more virtuous in this country than in that, and in that than in some other, according to the type of education from which their inhabitants have derived their mode of life.

Knowledge of the future based on the past is also facilitated when we find a nation which for a long time has had the same customs, which has been, for instance, consistently grasping or consistently deceitful, or which has had any other such vice or virtue. Thus, whoever studies the past history of this our city of Florence and compares what happened then with what has happened in quite recent times will find the German and French peoples imbued with avarice, pride, ferocity and unreliability, for all these four characteristics of theirs have at different times done much harm to our city. In regard to untrustworthiness, for instance, everybody knows how often money was given to King Charles VIII, and how he promised to restore the fortresses of Pisa and never did so; whereby this king displayed alike his untrustworthiness and no small avarice.

But let us pass over these recent events. Everybody will have heard of what happened in the war which the Florentines waged against the Visconti, Dukes of Milan. Since the Florentines had no other expedient available, they considered bringing the Emperor into Italy that his standing and his forces might be of avail in the attack on Lombardy. The Emperor promised to come with a strong army to join them in their war with the Visconti, and to protect Florence against that power, on condition that the Florentines gave him a hundred thousand ducats on his starting out and another hundred thousand when he should arrive in Italy; to which terms the Florentines agreed. Having been paid the first instalment, and then the second, when he got to Verona he turned back without doing anything, pleading that he was held up by those who had not fulfilled the agreements he had made with them. So that, had Florence neither been driven to it by necessity nor overcome by passion, but had read about and become acquainted with the habits of barbarians in ancient times, she would not have been misled by them on this occasion and on many others, since they have always been the same and have behaved everywhere and to everybody in the same way.

This may be seen from what they did of old to the Tuscans. The latter were much harassed by the Romans by whom they had often been put to flight and routed. It became clear to them that with their own forces they could not resist such attacks, so they made an agreement with the Gauls who had settled on the Italian side of the Alps whereby in return for a sum of money they were to join forces with them and to march against the Romans. The result was that, having accepted the money, the Gauls refused to take up arms on their behalf, alleging that they had accepted it not on the understanding that they should make war on the enemies of Tuscany but that they should abstain from pillaging Tuscan territory. So that, owing to the avarice and untrustworthiness of the Gauls, the Tuscan peoples at once lost their money and the help they had hoped to get from them.

Thus we see that in the case of the ancient Tuscans and in that of the Florentines, the Gauls adopted the same policy; from which it is easy to judge how much reliance rulers can place in them.

Book Three, Discourse 44. Results are often obtained by Impetuosity and Daring which could never have been obtained by Ordinary Methods

When the Samnites were attacked by the Roman army, and their own army was unable to keep the field against them, they decided to leave garrisons in the towns of Samnium and to move with all their forces into Tuscany which had made a truce with the Romans, in the hope that, by so doing, the presence of the army might induce the Tuscans to take up arms again, which they had declined to do when ambassadors were sent to them. In the speech which the Samnites made to the Tuscans, in the course of which they pointed out the causes which had induced them to take up arms, they made a remark worthy of attention, for they said that ‘they had rebelled because when peace means servitude it is more intolerable to free men than is war’. And thus, partly by argument and partly owing to the presence of their army, they induced the Tuscans again to take up arms. Here it is to be noted that if one ruler desires to get something from another, he should, when circumstances permit, not give him time for consideration, but should act in such a way that he will see the need of a prompt decision, which he will do if he sees that to refuse what is asked or to postpone the matter will at once arouse resentment that may be dangerous.

We find that such means have been effectively employed in our own times by Pope Julius in his dealings with the French, and by Monsieur de Foix, the French king’s general, in dealing with the Marquess of Mantua. For when Pope Julius wanted to expel the Bentivogli from Bologna, he realized that he would require French forces for this, and that the Venetians must remain neutral. So he approached them both, but, on receiving ambiguous and discrepant answers, he decided to bring both of them round to his point of view by giving them no time to do ought else. So he set out from Rome with such forces as he could muster, and approached Bologna, sending at the same time messages telling the Venetians to remain neutral and the King of France to send troops. Whereupon, since there was left to them but a brief space of time, and since the Pope would obviously become highly indignant if they hesitated or refused, they yielded to his wishes, and the king sent help and the Venetians remained neutral.

Similarly, when Monsieur de Foix, then at Bologna with his army, heard that Brescia had rebelled and wanted to go and recover it, he had two ways to go: one through territory belonging to the king, a long and tedious route; the other a short route through Mantuan territory. The latter route would not only mean that he had to pass through the dominion of the Marquess, but that he would also have to enter it by certain routes which lay between marshes and lakes wherein that region abounds, and which were locked and guarded by the Marquess with castles and other defences. Wherefore, de Foix, having decided to go by the short route, to obviate any difficult he did not give the Marquess time to consider, but at once marched with his troops along this road, and notified the Marquess that he should hand him the keys to pass through. Whereupon the Marquess, bewildered by this sudden decision, sent him the keys. This he would never have done if de Foix had been more hesitant in his behaviour, for the Marquess was in league both with the Pope and with the Venetians, and had a son in the Pope’s charge, which would have afforded him plenty of honest excuses for refusing. But, overwhelmed by the sudden decision, he gave way, for the reasons given above. Just so did the Tuscans behave towards the Samnites, when, owing to the presence of an army in Samnium, they took up arms, which on previous occasions they had refused to do.

Book Three, Discourse 45. Whether it is the Better Course in Battle to await the Enemy’s Attack and, having held it, to take the Offensive, or to make on the Enemy a Furious Onslaught at the Start

The Roman consuls, Decius and Fabius, with two armies were about to engage the armies of the Samnites and the Tuscans, and happened to be engaged together in the same battle at the same time. Hence it is worth while asking which of the two diverse modes of procedure adopted by the two consuls was the better. For Decius attacked the enemy with the utmost impetuosity and with all his forces, whereas Fabius was content to hold them, since he was of opinion that it is more useful to be slow to attack, and to restrain one’s impetuosity till a time comes when the enemy at length has lost the ardour for fighting he had at the start, and his fury, as one might say.

From the way things went, it may be seen that Fabius’s plan was much better than that of Decius; for the latter tired himself out with the vehemence of his first onslaught, with the result that, when he perceived that his men would otherwise soon turn tail, he did what his father had done before him, sacrificed himself for the sake of the Roman legions, that by his death he might attain that glory which he had been unable to acquire by a victory. When Fabius heard of this, in order not to remain alive and yet gain less honour than his colleague had gained by his death, he pushed forward with all the forces he had reserved for such an eventuality, and gained a most glorious victory. So that obviously the way in which Fabius behaved is the safer and the more worthy of imitation.

Book Three, Discourse 46. How it comes about that in a City a Family retains for a Long Time the same Customs

It would seem not only that one city differs from another in its customs and in its institutions, and produces men who are more stern or more effeminate; but one finds a like difference in the same city between this and that family. One meets with this in every city, and in the city of Rome one reads of many such cases; for one finds that the Manlii have ever been stern and obstinate, the Publicoli kindly and devoted to the people, the Appii ambitious and hostile to the plebs; and so of many other families, each of which has characteristics which distinguish it from the others.

This can scarce be wholly due to heredity, for intermarriage between different families would bring about variation; so it must needs be set down to the different way in which this family and that educates its children. For when a child of tender years begins to understand, it makes a great difference that he should hear some things spoken of with approval and some things with disapproval, since this must needs make an impression on him, by which later on his own conduct will be regulated in all the walks of life. If it were not so, it would have been impossible for the Appii to have had the same desires, and to have been moved by the same passions, as Titus Livy says many of them were. Thus, to take the last, who was appointed censor. When his colleague resigned his post – at the end of eighteen months, as the law required, Appius refused to resign, alleging that he was entitled to hold the post for five years, according to the first law which the censors had introduced; and, though numerous meetings were held to discuss the question and numerous disturbances arose, in spite of this and of his action being contrary to the will of the people and of the majority in the senate, there was no way of making him resign. So, too, whoever reads the speech he made against Publius Sempronius, the tribune of the plebs, will see that it is full of that arrogance which characterized the Appii, and, on the other hand, will note what goodness and humanity was shown by the great bulk of the citizens, and how ready they were to obey the laws of their country and the auspices.

Book Three, Discourse 47. That a Good Citizen out of Love for his Country ought to ignore Personal Affronts

When Marcius, the consul, and his army were making war on the Samnites, he was wounded in a battle, and since this meant danger to his troops, the senate deemed it necessary to send Papirius Cursor as dictator to make up for the loss of the consul. It was essential that the dictator should be nominated by the consul, Fabius, who was with the armies in Tuscany. As he and Papirius were enemies, it was doubtful whether he would be willing to nominate him. So the senators sent two ambassadors to beg him to set aside private enmities, and in the public interest to make the nomination. This Fabius did, moved thereunto by love for his country, though by his silence and in many other ways he made it clear that the nomination hit him hard.

All those who desire to be looked upon as good citizens should emulate his example.

Book Three, Discourse 48. When an Enemy is seen to be making a Big Mistake, it should be assumed that it is but an Artifice

When the legate, Fulvius, was left with the army which the Romans had in Tuscany, the consul having gone to Rome to attend some ceremonies, the Tuscans, in order to see whether they could catch him on the hop, set an ambush near the Roman camp, and sent some soldiers, dressed as shepherds, with a largish flock, telling them to let themselves be seen by the Roman army. Thus disguised, they went right up to the palisades surrounding the camp. The legate, wondering at their presumption which did not seem to him reasonable, took steps to discover the fraud, so that the Tuscans’ plan was frustrated.

Here it is well to observe that the general of an army ought not to rely on an obvious mistake which an enemy is seen to make, for it will always be a fraud, since it is not reasonable that men should so lack caution. Yet very often the desire for victory so blinds men’s eyes that they notice only what they want to see.

The Gauls, having defeated the Romans on the Allia, came to Rome, and, finding the gates open and unguarded, waited for a whole day and night without entering, since they were afraid of a fraud and could not believe that the Romans at heart were so cowardly or so stupid as to have abandoned their homeland.

When in 1508 the Florentines were besieging Pisa, Alfonso del Mutolo, a citizen of Pisa, finding himself a prisoner in the hands of the Florentines, promised that, if they would set him free, he would place one of the gates of that city at the disposal of the Florentine army. The man was set free. He then, on the plea of arranging practical details, came several times to talk with the delegates of the commissioners. Nor did he come secretly, but openly, and in the company of Pisans whom he left outside while he was talking with the Florentines. From this it might have been conjectured that he had double dealing in mind, for, if he had been acting in accordance with his promise it was unreasonable that he should have acted so openly. But so determined were the Florentines to have Pisa that, blinded by their desire for it, they went on his instructions to the Lucca gate, and left there, to their discredit, a number of officers and men owing to the double dealing of the said Alfonso.

Book Three, The Concluding Chapter: The Preservation of Freedom in A Republic

Book Three, Discourse 49. A Republic that would preserve its Freedom, ought daily to make Fresh Provisions to this End, and what Quintus Fabius did to earn for himself the title Maximus (73)

As we have remarked several times, in every large city there inevitably occur unfortunate incidents which call for the physician, and the more important the incidents the wiser should be the physician one looks for. If there was any city in which such incidents occurred, it was in Rome, where they were both curious and unexpected. For instance, on one occasion all the ladies of Rome had conspired to kill their husbands. Quite a number were found actually to have been poisoned, and for quite a number poison had been prepared.

Another instance was the conspiracy of the Bacchanals, which was discovered during the Macedonian war. In it so many thousands of men and women were involved that, if it had not been discovered, or if it had not actually been the custom in Rome to punish multitudes when they erred, it would have spelt danger for the city. For even if the greatness of that republic and its power of administration were not betokened in a thousand other ways, it is to be seen in the nature of the punishment inflicted on the evil-doer. Thus Rome did not hesitate to pronounce judicial sentence of death on a whole legion at a time, or on a city; not yet to banish eight or ten thousand men and to impose on them extraordinary conditions, which had to be observed not by one man alone but by so many; as she did in the case of the soldiers who had fought unsuccessfully at Cannae, and who were banished to Sicily, where they were forbidden to reside in towns and had to eat standing up.

But of all her administrative acts the most terrible was the practice of ‘decimating’ an army, i.e. of choosing by lot every tenth man, and putting him to death. No more terrifying punishment than this could possibly be devised for the purpose of chastising a multitude. For when a great number of people have done wrong, and it is not clear who is responsible, it is impossible to punish them all, since there are too many of them; and to punish some, and leave others unpunished, would be unfair to those who are punished, and the unpunished would take heart and do wrong at some other time. But by killing the tenth part, chosen by lot, when all are guilty, he who is punished bewails his lot, and he who is not punished is afraid to do wrong lest on some other occasion the lot should not spare him.

The poisoners and the Bacchanals, therefore, were punished for their sins as they deserved. And, although maladies of this kind do great harm to a republic, they are not fatal, for there is generally time to correct them. But there is no time as a rule when they affect the state, and, unless some wise man corrects them, the city is ruined.

Owing to the generous way in which the Romans used to grant citizenship to foreigners, there came to be in Rome such a cosmopolitan crowd of newcomers that they began to play an important part in the voting, with the result that the government began to change and to depart from those ways and from those men it had been accustomed to follow. Quintus Fabius, when he was censor, noticing this, allocated this cosmopolitan collection of newcomers to whose presence the trouble was due, to four ‘tribes’, and by restricting in this way the scope of their activities, prevented them from corrupting all Rome. Thus, having taken due cognizance of the trouble, Fabius, without altering the constitutions, applied an appropriate remedy and so acceptable was this to that city that he came deservedly to be called ‘Maximus’.