The words used—
fossa, pinnis, aggere, castrorum
—identify it with the camps (
castra
) that in the future Roman legionary soldiers will build at the end of the day’s march—
castra,
which will be built all over Europe and have often left their mark on the names of the cities that occupy those sites—Lancaster, Manchester, Worcester. From this camp Aeneas sends an embassy to King Latinus, asking for a grant of land and the hand of his daughter Lavinia in marriage. The king has been warned of such an approach by visions and seers, and is agreeable. But Juno intervenes again—this is where she makes her famous proclamation: “if I cannot sway the heavens, I’ll wake the powers of hell!”
Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo
(7.365). (Many centuries later these words would appear on the title page of Sigmund Freud’s book
The Interpretation of Dreams,
a clear announcement that he is drawing some sort of analogy between the psychic and the infernal, and the dark energies of both.) Juno sends the Fury Allecto to rouse against the marriage first Lavinia’s mother Amata, and then the Rutulian leader Turnus, who presumes that Lavinia will become his bride. Both are filled with furious rage against the new proposal, and Turnus (and Juno) stir Italy against its terms. War against the intruders is declared, and Book 7 ends with a long catalog of the Italian forces and leaders, prominent among them Mezentius, the Etruscan king whose own people (who eventually fight on the Trojan side) had driven him out because of his cruelty; and Turnus, the leader of the fight against Aeneas, and the virgin cavalry leader Camilla, the Volscian.
As Book 8 opens, the god of the river Tiber appears to Aeneas in a dream, explains to him that Evander, whose kingdom lies upriver, is an enemy of the Latins and will help Aeneas. The river-god himself will help him on his way in his ships. Aeneas chooses a pair of galleys and sets off for Evander’s town, which is on the site, with its hills, where Rome will one day rise. They are hailed by Pallas, Evander’s son, and welcomed by the king. He has been celebrating their liberation by Hercules from the fire-breathing monster Cacus, which lived in a cave on what later, in Roman times, was named the Aventine hill. And Evander tells the long story of Hercules’ ultimate destruction of Cacus. He then shows Aeneas all around his kingdom, the places that will in later times be famous, the future sites of the Capitol—“they saw herds of cattle . . . / in the Roman Forum and Carinae’s elegant district” (8.423-24). That night, as they sleep, Venus persuades her husband, the smith-god Vulcan, to make arms and a shield for Aeneas. Meanwhile Evander tells Aeneas of certain allies for him—the Etruscans, who have expelled their cruel king, Mezentius, and burn to fight the Rutulian forces of Turnus but have been told by a seer to await a captain from overseas. Aeneas and Pallas ride for Etruria with their cavalry, meet the Etruscan forces and, as the “weary troops take rest” (8.716), Venus gives her son his new arms and shield. And on the shield “There is the story of Italy, / Rome in all her triumphs” (8.738-39). Across its surface is pictured the whole history of Rome, from the she-wolf that suckled Romulus and Remus to the battle of Actium, which made Augustus master of the world. Aeneas
knows nothing of these events but takes delight
in their likeness, lifting onto his shoulders now
the fame and fates of all his children’s children.
(8.856-58)
Back at the seashore Turnus, spurred on by Juno, leads his troops against the Trojan camp, but unable to breach the walls, attacks with fire the ships of Aeneas, moored by the camp. But these ships were built outside Troy from trees in a wood sacred to Jupiter’s mother, Cybebe (Cybele), and she now calls on her son to save them. He changes them into sea-nymphs, and Turnus calls off the attack on the camp until the next day. One of the Trojans, Nisus, proposes to steal at night through the sleeping enemy contingents to go and warn Aeneas of the danger to his base, and his young lover, Euryalus, insists, in spite of Nisus’ protests, on accompanying him. They carry out a wild slaughter among the sleeping Italians but as they move off, toward the river perhaps, they are intercepted and killed by a fresh enemy contingent just arriving. The next day Turnus renews the attack on the camp and even manages to get in alone through a gate that has been opened by overconfident Trojans. He creates great slaughter among the Trojans as he fights his way to the water and swims to safety.
At the beginning of Book 10, which follows, Jupiter calls together an assembly of the gods at which both Venus and Juno make their long complaints, but Jupiter declares neutrality. He will leave the outcome to the champions themselves:
“How each man weaves
his web will bring him to glory or to grief . . .
The Fates will find the way.”
(10.135-38)
The attack on the camp resumes, while far upriver, Aeneas joins the Etruscan leaders, who combine their fleet with his to sail down to the relief of the Trojan camp. At this point (10.202ff.) Virgil names and describes the Etruscan leaders, another of those catalogs in which he lovingly recites the various parts of Italy from which they come . . . Pisa, Caere, Liguria, Mantua—part of that hymn of praise of Italy that is a main feature of the
Aeneid.
As Aeneas sails down the river, the nymph Cymodocea, who had been one of the nymphs that had been changed into a ship outside the camp, warns him that the camp is under attack by Turnus, and as Aeneas comes in sight of it he raises the shield his mother had made for him, and the signal is greeted with joy and relief by the Trojans in the camp. There follows a vivid account of an opposed landing and an equally fierce battle afterward “on Italy’s very doorstep” (10.420), in which, as young Pallas’ troops begin to fall back, he rallies them and kills one enemy chieftain after another, until Turnus comes to the rescue and routs the Arcadians, killing Pallas and taking from him as a trophy Pallas’ engraved sword-belt, which will turn out to be his own death warrant.
Aeneas hears the news and comes on, slaughtering enemy champions right and left as he looks for Turnus. But Juno obtains from Jupiter a respite, no more, for Turnus, and full of grief she spirits him out of the fighting to his home. Book 10 ends with an account of the many successful duels of Mezentius, the Etruscan king fighting on the Latin side. He kills one Trojan champion after another until he meets Aeneas, who wounds him and then kills his son Lausus, as he comes to his father’s aid. Aeneas, thinking no doubt of Pallas, is sorry for him, but goes on to kill his father, Mezentius. In Book 11 Aeneas, his camp no longer besieged, proceeds to the burial of the dead. He mourns over the body of Pallas and sends it off with his arms, his warhorse, and a huge escort, to his father. He gives envoys from the Latin city permission to bury their dead, and Drances, an enemy of Turnus, announces his intention to seek peace. Evander mourns over the body of Pallas and sends word to Aeneas that his “right arm / . . . owes . . . the life of Turnus / to son and father both” (11.210-12).
Now, as the Latins bury their dead, the discontent with the war, fanned by Drances, grows and is increased by bad news that arrives from the city that Diomedes the Greek champion was building in Italy, and whom the Latin envoys had counted on for support against the enemy he had fought at Troy. But Diomedes’ answer is negative: he advises them to make peace with Aeneas, whose bravery he praises. Latinus offers to give the Trojans the territory they ask for, and Drances proposes that the king give his daughter Lavinia to Aeneas in marriage. Turnus makes a long and furious reply, urging continuation of the war, and offering, if it comes to that, to fight Aeneas man to man as Drances has proposed. But the council is interrupted by the news that Aeneas with all his troops is advancing on the city. The citizens man the walls, and Turnus orders his captains to their stations and rides off himself to meet, at the head of her cavalry, Camilla the Volscian. He arranges for her to engage the Trojan cavalry, while he hopes to ambush Aeneas and his troops, who are attacking the city from a different direction. The rest of Book 11 is mainly concerned with the feats and fate of Camilla, who, after killing many adversaries, is brought down by the Etruscan Arruns, who has stalked her all over the battlefield. Her death is avenged by that of Arruns at the hand of the nymph Opis, sent down by the goddess Diana, who loves Camilla, her devotee. And now, in the last book, Turnus sends the challenge to Aeneas, to fight him man to man. As all the preparations are made, the dueling ground paced off, Juno intervenes. She tells Turnus’ sister, Juturna, a river-nymph, “Pluck your brother from death, if there’s a way, / or drum up war and abort that treaty they conceived” (12.187-88).
And she does. Disguised as Camers, a famous Italian warrior, she begins to stir discontent among the Rutulians, and soon fighting breaks out. Aeneas, as he vainly tries to stop it, is hit by an arrow and retreats from the lines. Turnus attacks, the war resumes. Aeneas and his friends try to pull the broken arrowhead out of the wound; their efforts and those of the old healer Iapyx are unsuccessful until Venus intervenes and supplies Iapyx, without his knowledge, with herbs that restore Aeneas to health. Venus also inspires Aeneas to put Latinus’ city to the torch, and the Trojan attack is successful enough to cause the queen, Amata, to hang herself as the walls are breached. The news is brought to Turnus, and abandoning his chariot, which, he now realizes, is driven by his sister Juturna the nymph, who is trying to save him, he comes to meet Aeneas and settle the issue man to man.
As they fight, Venus and Juturna both intervene to help their relatives, and finally Jupiter forbids any further interference by Juno or her helper. And reluctantly Juno yields. But she makes a request:
“never command the Latins, here on native soil,
to change their age-old name,
to become Trojans, called the kin of Teucer,
alter their language, change their style of dress.
Let Latium endure. Let Alban kings hold sway for all time.
Let Roman stock grow strong with Italian strength.
Troy has fallen—and fallen let her stay—
with the very name of Troy!”
(12.954-61)
And Jupiter grants her wish:
“Latium’s sons will retain their fathers’ words and ways.
Their name till now is the name that shall endure.
Mingling in stock alone, the Trojans will subside.
And I will add the rites and the forms of worship,
make them Latins all, who speak the Latin tongue.”
(12.967-71)
Juno accepts, with joy. But Jupiter must now deal with Juturna. He sends down one of the Furies, who assumes the form of an owl that flutters in Turnus’ face, screeches, drums Turnus’ shield with its wings. Juturna recognizes the signal and, lamenting, leaves Turnus to face Aeneas. In the end, Turnus, helpless, lies at Aeneas’ feet and begs for his life. Turnus’ pleas begin to sway him, when suddenly he sees “the fateful sword-belt of Pallas, / swept over Turnus’ shoulder . . . like a trophy” and “plants / his iron sword hilt-deep in his enemy’s heart” (12.1098-1110).
HISTORY
All this intervention of gods in human affairs to advance their own interests and satisfy their own passions is Homeric, but what is not Homeric is the constant reference to history, in particular to Roman history, which is a recurring feature of the
Aeneid.
The Homeric epics have no historical background to speak of—as C. S. Lewis puts it, “There is no pretence, indeed no possibility of pretending, that the world, or even Greece, would have been much altered if Odysseus had never got home at all” (
Preface,
p. 26). But the
Aeneid
is always conscious of history, Roman history, many centuries of it. Very often this reference is explicit, as in the long list and description of great Romans not yet born, whose spirits are shown to Aeneas by his father in Elysium in Book 6. But often the allusion is not explicit, and though it was obvious to Virgil’s Roman readers, it may not be so without explanation today.
For example, in Book 2, Aeneas’ account to Dido of the sack of Troy by the Greeks, the final disposition of the corpse of Priam, king of Troy, slaughtered in his palace by Pyrrhus, son of Achilles, is described by Virgil in these words:
“Such was the fate of Priam . . .
the monarch who once had ruled in all his glory
the many lands of Asia, Asia’s many tribes.
A powerful trunk is lying on the shore.
The head wrenched from the shoulders.
A corpse without a name.”
(2.686-92)
Any Roman who read these lines in the years after Virgil’s poem was published or heard them recited would at once remember a real and recent ruler over “the many lands of Asia,” whose headless corpse lay on the shore. It was the corpse of Gnaeus Pompeius (Pompey), who had been ruler of all the lands of Asia; from 67 to 62 B.C. he had been given a wide and extended command to settle the Middle East, had defeated the army of Mithridates, king of Pontus, and reorganized the whole area, adding new provinces to the Empire. But many years later, after his defeat by Caesar at Pharsalus in 48 B.C., his body lay headless on the Egyptian shore.
But this is far from being the only such reference to Roman history. Dido’s last words, in which she curses Aeneas and predicts eternal war between her people and his, reminded Roman readers of the three wars the Romans had to fight against the Carthaginians: the Punic Wars, they called them, a word formed from their name—
Poeni
—for the settlers from Tyre, who had founded the great commercial and naval power of Carthage.