Histories by Polybius

Translated by Evelyn Shirley Shuckburgh.

I open with a quote from this massive, fragmentary book:

When Hannibal, after conquering the Romans in the battle at Cannae, got possession of the eight thousand who were guarding the Roman camp, he made them all prisoners of war, and granted them permission to send messages to their relations that they might be ransomed and return home. They accordingly selected ten of their chief men, whom Hannibal allowed to depart after binding them with an oath to return. But one of them, just as he had got outside the palisade of the camp, saying that he had forgotten something, went back; and, having got what he had left behind, once more set out, under the belief that by means of this return he had kept his promise and discharged his oath. Upon the arrival of the envoys at Rome, imploring and beseeching the Senate not to grudge the captured troops their return home, but to allow them to rejoin their friends by paying three minae each for them—for these were the terms, they said, granted by Hannibal—and declaring that the men deserved redemption, for they had neither played the coward in the field, nor done anything unworthy of Rome, but had been left behind to guard the camp; and that, when all the rest had perished, they had yielded to absolute necessity in surrendering to Hannibal: though the Romans had been severely defeated in the battles, and though they were at the time deprived of, roughly speaking, all their allies, they neither yielded so far to misfortune as to disregard what was becoming to themselves, nor omitted to take into account any necessary consideration. They saw through Hannibal’s purpose in thus acting—which was at once to get a large supply of money, and at the same time to take away all enthusiasm from the troops opposed to him, by showing that even the conquered had a hope of getting safe home again. Therefore the Senate, far from acceding to the request, refused all pity even to their own relations, and disregarded the services to be expected from these men in the future: and thus frustrated Hannibal’s calculations, and the hopes which he had founded on these prisoners, by refusing to ransom them; and at the same time established the rule for their own men, that they must either conquer or die on the field, as there was no other hope of safety for them if they were beaten. With this answer they dismissed the nine envoys who returned of their own accord; but the tenth who had put the cunning trick in practice for discharging himself of his oath they put in chains and delivered to the enemy. So that Hannibal was not so much rejoiced at his victory in the battle, as struck with astonishment at the unshaken firmness and lofty spirit displayed in the resolutions of these senators.

This quote is sensational. If only all of Polybius’ Histories was as good. These Histories cover the years of Roman history from 264 to 146 BC, and much of the book is lost or fragmentary. It covers the first, second, and third Punic Wars between Rome and Carthage; the first, second, third, and fourth Macedonian Wars; the Roman-Seleucid War; and the Achaean League thing that is basically a war.

The one aim and object, then, of all that I have undertaken to write is to show how, when, and why all the known parts of the world fell under the dominion of Rome.

Polybius was one of the 1,000 hostages Rome took from the Achaean League in 167 BC, and he fell in love with Roman culture. Rome then used him to travel around Greece and calm people's fears about Roman rule, and it seems like his Histories largely grew out of that task: he explains the Romans to the Greeks, showing why their constitution and military might are superior and how they are benevolent rulers. Therefore, the book is mostly political, not military history. But it delves heavily into military history too.

There are two roads to reformation for mankind—one through misfortunes of their own, the other through those of others: the former is the most unmistakable, the latter the less painful.

The book is 1/3 spectacular, and 2/3 drudgery. The slog comes from Polybius' task and involves way too many Greek names and places that he assumes his reader knows. I would have been unsurprised to hear him discuss a single, well-known tree, for instance: "You know that [named] tributary between those two [named] cities that has that big oak tree there where it turns South? Yeah, that's where [so and so did such and such]." This annoys me quite a bit as that tree is long gone, or that person is lost to history, or that town no longer exists, or that stream has changed course since his life—not enough context or explanation is given to make some things memorable to people who are not Greeks living through this time period. To subvert one of his quotes, I have a strange ignorance of these districts. I wish he had entered into specific details less later in the book. To use another quote, in Book 1 he writes,

To enter into minute details of these events is unnecessary, and would be of no advantage to my readers.

In essence, it’s often both too detailed and not detailed enough: too many names dropped and places listed, not enough context about, or repetition of, those details to make them useful to the reader. He could’ve edited some, for sure. But he’s also one of the first historians talking about first-hand knowledge, so some leeway is granted to the pioneer by me.

His fate may teach posterity two useful lessons—not to put faith in any one lightly; and not to be over-confident in the hour of prosperity, knowing that, in human affairs, there is no accident which we may not expect.

The 1/3 spectacular is the military history part. Polybius seems to have done extensive research: he personally traveled to and inspected battlefield sites, he interviewed veterans and their families to gather stories, and he actually fought in some of the battles listed, giving his first-hand account of why these battles were won or lost. It seems like he retraced Hannibal's path through the Alps to get a sense of what it was like before writing it down. This is really great stuff and admirable research. You can’t beat Polybius on some of these battles, if he actually writes about them or we still have his text of it.

Nature, as it seems to me, has ordained that Truth should be a most mighty goddess among men, and has endowed her with extraordinary power. At least, I notice that though at times everything combines to crush her, and every kind of specious argument is on the side of falsehood, she somehow or another insinuates herself by her own intrinsic virtue into the souls of men. Sometimes she displays her power at once; and sometimes, though obscured for a length of time, she at last prevails and overpowers falsehood.

His writing often relies on a cause and effect structure for each episode, where he outlines the causes—including character assessments of the players—then describes the action, lists the effects of the action, and finally moralizes on the whole episode. Through the surviving parts of the book, his discussion usually centers around the nature of Fortune and spends a lot of time showing how virtuous, honorable, and meticulous leaders often attain more Fortune than drunkards, back-stabbers, or lazy leaders. This tactic fills this book with memorable one-liners that reward the reader, even in the midst of the worst drudgery slog:

A city is not really adorned by what is brought from without, but by the virtue of its own inhabitants.

A crowd is ever easily misled and easily induced to any error.

Fortune is envious of mortals, and is most apt to show her power in those points in which a man fancies that he is most blest and most successful in life.

I admit, indeed, that war is a terrible thing; but it is less terrible than to submit to anything whatever in order to avoid it. For what is the meaning of our fine talk about equality of rights, freedom of speech, and liberty, if the one important thing is peace?

So entirely unable are the majority of mankind to submit to that lightest of all burdens—silence.

Hannibal: “I have learnt by actual experience that Fortune is the most fickle thing in the world, and inclines with decisive favour now to one side and now to the other on the slightest pretext, treating mankind like young children.”

In short: this book was months and months of reading. It was sometimes painful and sometimes so great I couldn't put it down. As painful as about 2/3rds of it was, I have taken more notes from this book than any other that I have read, I have pulled out more quotes, and I have shared more stories from this than any other book. I compiled around 40 pages of quotes alone that I have linked here.
—Before reading Polybius I didn't understand the value of "the classics": why disagree with a bunch of dead people when there are so many live people to disagree with, and they can offer discussion? But the nature of Polybius turns constantly towards a lesson, towards a moral, towards applicable advice obtained from historical events. This tendency springs from his tactic of organizing each episode into cause-action-effect-reflection. In that nature Polybius sets himself apart from modern historians who shy away from morals, and establishes himself as a reasonable, opinionated man. He lays out his biases clearly, then proceeds to state why he moralizes what he does from events, and give counter-examples to support his opinion, or wrinkle the lesson learned. I may disagree with his lessons here or there, but I still wish the rest of the work had survived. The book is filled with things to think about and has inspired at least one short story of mine.

It was then that the story goes that, upon a certain Senator intending to speak against accepting the terms and actually beginning to do so, Hannibal came forward and pulled the man down from the tribune; and when the other senators showed anger at this breach of custom, Hannibal rose again and “owned that he was ignorant of such things; but said that they must pardon him if he acted in any way contrary to their customs, remembering that he had left the country when he was but fourteen, and had only returned when now past forty-five. Therefore he begged them not to consider whether he had committed a breach of custom, but much rather whether he were genuinely feeling for his country’s misfortunes; for that was the real reason for his having been guilty of this breach of manners. For it appeared to him to be astonishing, and, indeed, quite unaccountable, that any one calling himself a Carthaginian, and being fully aware of the policy which they had individually and collectively adopted against the Romans, should do otherwise than adore the kindness of Fortune for obtaining such favourable terms, when in their power, as a few days ago no one—considering the extraordinary provocation they had given—would have ventured to mention, if they had been asked what they expected would happen to their country, in case of the Romans proving victorious. Therefore he called upon them now not to debate, but unanimously to accept the terms offered, and with sacrifices to the gods to pray with one accord that the Roman people might confirm the treaty.” His advice being regarded as both sensible and timely, they resolved to sign the treaty on the conditions specified; and the senate at once despatched envoys to notify their consent.