What Price Liberty?

The siege of Rome in 508 BC by the Etruscan King of Clusium, Lars Porsenna, sought to restore the monarchy of Tarquinius Superbus, the last Roman king, whom the Romans had deposed the year before. Porsenna drew a blockade around Rome that slowly starved the city. Repeated attempts by the Romans to break the siege failed. 

The Senate despaired that the city might have to be surrendered to Porsenna, handing Tarquinius back his crown and strangling the infant Roman Republic in its crib. With the city about to collapse, a young noble named Gaius Mucius came forward. He found it intolerable that Rome might lose the liberty it had just won the year before. Mucius proposed an act of assassination—that he would commit—as the only way to save the city from a return to the tyranny of kings that Rome had endured for over two centuries.

With little to lose, the desperate Romans agreed to his outlandish plan. Disguised as an Etruscan soldier, he entered the enemy’s camp with most of the army gathered before Porsenna to be paid. Mucius encountered two men sitting on a raised platform in the heart of the encampment, each wearing a purple robe, soldiers clustered around them. One was Porsenna and the other his clerk, but Mucius had no way of knowing which one was king. Unwilling to reveal himself by asking, he chose the one whom soldiers seemed to be thanking and plunged his dagger into the man’s chest. 

Unfortunately for Mucius and Rome, the man he killed was not Porsenna. Guards quickly subdued Mucius and hauled him before the king. Mucius remained defiant. “I am Gaius Mucius, a Roman citizen. I came here to kill my enemy, and I am as ready to die as I was to kill.”

Porsenna threatened to burn him alive unless he disclosed the details of the Roman plot. Mucius turned to a large brazier filled with glowing coals and thrust his right hand into the flames, without flinching or making a sound. He kept his hand in the fire until it was completely consumed, staring all the while at Porsenna. 

He told the king that he was one of three hundred Romans who had sworn to murder him. The others would be coming forthwith. The shaken Porsenna, in awe of the courage and endurance of pain he had witnessed, ordered Mucius released. He made peace with Rome and withdrew his troops, having no desire to test his fortune another two hundred and ninety-nine times.

The painting above, from the Workshop of Peter Paul Rubens, possibly finished by Anthony van Dyck, shows Mucius before Porsenna on his throne, his clenched fist in the fire. His dagger can be seen in the chest of the murdered clerk. Because his right hand was permanently lost to the fire, he was given the nickname Scaevola—the Left-Handed. He was also given a piece of land by the Senate, known for centuries as the Mucian Meadows, a physical reminder of Roman resolve. 

The legend of Gaius Mucius Scaevola is one of the most enduring foundational myths of the Roman Republic, epitomizing Roman virtus (bravery) and pietas (duty). Mucius thrust his hand into the fire not to show bravery, but to show how great endurance can be when it serves a just cause.

Modern historians believe, as did Roman historians such as Tacitus, that Porsenna actually captured Rome. The story of Mucius, they argue, was fabricated for much the same reason the legend of Horatius was invented—to provide cover for the disgrace of the city falling to Porsenna. But over time, it served to transmit Roman values and to highlight the importance of liberty to the early Republic.

Prometheus gave fire to man and was punished by Zeus for generations, until Hercules freed him. Mucius gave his hand to the fire and is lauded for it still.