Titus Livius (Livy), The History of Rome, Book 3
Benjamin Oliver Foster, Ph.D., Ed.

26. A great body of Sabines made a hostile incursion almost to the walls of Rome, wasting the fields and terrifying the citizens. Thereupon the plebeians willingly enlisted, and despite the unavailing protests of the tribunes, two large armies were [p. 89]enrolled. One of these Nautius led against the¹ Sabines. [2] Pitching his camp at Eretum, lie sent out little expeditions, chiefly nocturnal raiding parties, and so liberally repaid on their own fields the depredations of the Sabines, that the Roman territories in comparison seemed scarcely to have been touched by war. [3] Minucius had neither the same good fortune nor equal spirit in conducting his campaign; for he encamped not far from the enemy, and without having suffered any considerable defeat, kept timidly within his breastworks. When the enemy perceived this, their audacity was heightened, as is usually the case, by their opponents' fear, and they attacked the camp by night. [4] Failing to accomplish anything by open force, they next day surrounded the place with earthworks; but before these could be thrown up on every side of the camp and so shut off all egress, five horsemen were sent out through the enemy's outposts and carried to Rome the news that the consul and his army were beleaguered. Nothing more surprising or unlooked-for could have happened. [5] And so the alarm and consternation were as great as if it had been the City, not the camp, which the enemy were investing. [6] They sent for the consul Nautius; but deeming him unequal to their defence, and resolving to have a dictator to restore their shattered fortunes, they agreed unanimously on the nomination of Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus.

[7] What followed merits the attention of those who despise all human qualities in comparison with riches, and think there is no room for great honours or for worth but amidst a profusion of wealth. The sole hope of the empire of the Roman People, Lucius [p. 91]Quinctius, cultivated a field of some four acres² across³ the Tiber, now known as the Quinctian Meadows, directly opposite the place where the dockyards are at present. [8] There he was found by the representatives of the state. Whether bending over his spade as he dug a ditch, or ploughing, he was, at all events, as everybody agrees, intent upon some rustic task. [9] After they had exchanged greetings with him, they asked him to put on his toga, to hear (and might good come of it to himself and the republic!) the mandates of the senate. In amazement he cried, “Is all well?” and bade his wife Racilia quickly fetch out his toga from the hut. [10] When he had put it on, after wiping off the dust and sweat, and came forth to the envoys, they hailed him Dictator, congratulated him, and summoned him to the City, explaining the alarming situation of the army. [11] A boat was waiting for him, provided by the state; and as he reached the other side his three sons came out to receive him; after them came his other kinsmen and friends; and after them the greater part of the senate. Attended by this throng and preceded by his lictors he was escorted to his house. [12] The plebeians too were gathered in great numbers; but they were by no means so rejoiced at the sight of Quinctius, because they thought that not only was his authority excessive, but that the man was even more dangerous than the authority itself. That night nothing more was done than to keep a watch in the City.