Hi-ho. Mike here. As this is my first post on this blog (I used to have a really whiny blog filled with invective a couple of years ago), I'm just going to lay down the formula. The basic deal is that every day, or close to every day, I'm just going to tell a story supposedly from history that I think is interesting. The loose rule is that I'll try to progress naturally through time, starting early and going forward, but that changes on a when-I-feel-like-it basis. Anyway, to the story.
The story of Romulus and Remus isn't all that interesting. At least not their early life -- being suckled by the she-wolf, and all. It's just another in-the-bullrushes story. But the story of their later foundation of Rome, after they'd gotten revenge on their grandfather, is much better. Y'see, the twin brothers had killed their granddad, who had forced their mother, his daughter, to abandon them in the wilderness as infants. He'd heard a prophecy that the boys would grow up to kill him and eclipse his fame.
The boys grow up and kill him (this seemed to happen so often in these stories that you'd think one of these tyrant kings would get the picture and not try to fight fate). Naturally, they decided to follow up this vengeful murder by founding a city (wouldn't you?).
The boys were all set, but they needed to decide just where the city would be. Remus wanted to build on a wide, flat plain inward from the sea. Romulus preferred a hilly region around the Tiber River. The boys decided to let the gods choose the location. Each brother would go to the region he preferred and wait for an omen. Once they saw something nifty, they'd return to camp and whoever saw the most auspiscious thing would be favored.
So, one morning, the brothers left their camp at dawn and went to their sites. Around noon, Remus returned to find Romulus waiting for him. "What a wonderful omen I saw, brother!" cried Remus. "I hiked the many miles to my site, and no sooner had I arrived when I heard a mighty clap of thunder! Then, Jupiter himself sent twelve eagles following after his thunderbolt, and they all flew past me in one group! Eagles are solitary birds, as you know, and they are Jupiter's sacred animal! Surely the gods intend for our city to be built on my plain!"
Romulus listened to all this without getting up -- he was sprawled by the fire, gnawing on a chicken thigh. Wiping his hands on his tunic, he stood up and (with a little belch) addressed Remus. "That is truly a wondrous experience, Remus," he said, "but I'm afraid the gods prefer my hills. For no sooner had I arrived at my hills when I heard a clap of thunder, just as you did. And then I saw FIFTEEN eagles fly past! Jupiter Optimus Maximus has ordained that my hills are greater than your plains."
Remus was disappointed to hear this, of course, but he was a fair-minded chap and a pious one. So he smiled and clapped Romulus on the back and agreed that the city must be built on the seven hills beside the Tiber. Work on the city proceeded quickly. The first thing the brothers did was to build a holy site where the center of the city would be. They then planned outward and began to build outer walls -- the rest of the city would be filled in later.
One night, after building a section of wall, the brothers sat by their campfire and talked about their city. It would be the pride of all of Italy! The streets would be broad and beautiful! The temples would be grand and magnificent, honors to the gods! And the walls would be impregnable! "We surely were blessed," Romulus said, "that Jupiter granted me the vision of the twenty eagles! For this is the perfect place for our perfect city!" As he said this, he took a bite out of the chicken leg he was holding (Romulus preferred the dark meat).
Remus' eyes narrowed as he heard this. "HOW MANY eagles did you say? How many did you see?" Romulus stopped in mid-mouthful and turned pale. "Er...twenty. Yes, it was twenty eagles that I saw. Don't you remember what I told you before?" Now Remus flew into a rage. "You didn't see twenty eagles! Why, I bet you never saw ANY omen! You are a liar, and you have doomed our city with your blasphemy!"
Remus ran out to the section of wall they had built that day and crouched into a runner's stance nearby, shaking with rage. "Here is what I think of your city and this stupid wall!" And with that, he sprinted toward the wall and hurdled it in one jump (How high a wall can you really build in one day?). When Romulus saw his brother disrespecting his walls and their aforementioned impregnability, he grabbed his spear and hurled it right into Remus' chest. Romulus was now the sole founder of the city, which, by default, would not be called "Rem."
Having dispensed with patri- and fratricide, Romulus was now free to do what he wanted. On his own, he finished the walls and the city was finished. Now all he needed was some citizens. He put the word out in the surrounding countryside (putting up flyers, perhaps?) that anyone who came to Rome and stood in the holy place at the center of the city would receive a full amnesty of all crimes ever committed.
That did the trick, of course. Every brigand, ne'er-do-well, highwayman, cutpurse, and footpad in a fifty-mile radius hurried to Rome to claim his amnesty. They stood in the holy place, took an oath of allegiance to Romulus and the city, and began to build homes within the walls. The only problem was that Romulus' tactic produced a lot of men, but no women. There weren't a lot of career criminal women in the surrounding area. Sneak-thievery and mountebankism didn't leave a lot of room for starting a family, it seemed. Nor was any respectable woman likely to emigrate to a city full of reformed pirates. If the city was to have any future, Romulus needed a crop of little Romans, and that wasn't going to happen in a city full of dudes.
After thinking it over, Romulus formulated a cunning plan. He sent an invitation to the King of the Sabines, a nearby tribe. "You are invited to a Dead Brother/New City Party," it read. "Athletic competition and picnic cotillion on the Capitoline Hill. King Romulus will make his famous cole slaw. Dress casual, BYOB. Bring your women along." The Sabine King (whose name I forget...let us call him Hank) thought this sounded like a perfectly ducky idea for a party. He bought a new running tunic, made some Yankee bean soup, and brought all the men, women, and children to Rome for the picnic/track meet.
"King Hank!" shouted Romulus, walking out to meet him with open arms. "Glad to see you made it! And I see you brought all your wives and daughters, too! That's cool, man! Hey, there's something I wanted to ask you before we start the races." He put his arm around Hank's shoulder and began to walk him toward the cook-tents. "You know, now that we're neighbors, I think it's really important that we try to cultivate an atmosphere of trust and open-mindedne-HOLY CRAP! LOOK OVER THERE!"
Every Sabine man looked in the direction of Romulus's outstretched finger, and every Roman sprang into action, knowing this was the pre-planned signal. "Each man to a woman!" shouted Romulus. "Man your women!" Every Roman dashed into the crowd of Sabines, grabbed a chick, slung her over his shoulder, and began to run like hell for home. This was so singularly bizarre that it took a second to sink in for King Hank.
"Hey!" he shouted, "They just stole all our women! Sabine men, this insult will NOT stand! Let us return home, arm for battle, and beat the retsina out of these punks!" All the Sabine men agreed, and they tramped off home to prepare for battle.
When they returned to Rome, though, they found that their wives and daughters had already given birth to a new crop of Romans. There is no mention in history of why the hell it took them nine months to get home, suit up, and come back to fight. Maybe there were tax reasons. Suffice it to say that on seeing their new Roman relations, they could hardly widow their former wives and daughters and leave them to raise children without fathers. King Hank agreed that all the Sabine people would be absorbed into the Romans. The rakehells and hoydens who had accepted Romulus's amnesty were now the heads of what would become the most ancient families in Rome. AND, a new custom was born.
Y'see, when a Roman bride and groom entered their first home, the man carried the woman over the threshold into her new house. This was done to remember the first Romans who had stolen their wives and carried them kicking and screaming into their houses. It is a custom that continues today. Cool, huh?
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