Authors: Robert Graves
Several loyal speeches were made, all in rather guarded terms, for fear of the vengeance of Scribonianus, should he force me to resign. Only Vinicius spoke out strongly: ‘My Lords, I think that many of us must be feeling keenly the reproach that the Father of the Country has been, however gently, heaping on us. I confess that I am heartily ashamed that I misjudged him before his accession and that I thought him unfitted for the offices which he has since so nobly filled. It is incredible to me now that his mental powers were ever underrated by any of us, and the only explanation that I can offer is that he deceived us, first by his great modesty and next by his deliberate self-depreciation in the reign of the late Emperor. You know the proverb “No man cries ‘Stinking Fish’.’
‘ That proverb was discredited under Caligula, when no wise man with fish in his basket would cry it as anything but stinking, for fear Caligula should become greedy or jealous. Valerius Asiaticus concealed his wealth, Tiberius. Claudius concealed his wit; I had nothing to conceal except my disgust of tyranny, but. I concealed that until the time came for action. Yes; we all cried “Stinking fish”. Caligula is dead now, and under Claudius frankness has come into its own. I shall be frank. My cousin Vinicianus spoke violently against Claudius lately in my presence and suggested his deposition. I reproached him angrily but did not report the matter, to the House, because there is no treason-law now in force, and, after all, he is my cousin. Free speech must be indulged, especially in the case of kinsmen. Vinicianus is not here to-night. He has left the City. I fear that he has gone to join Scribonianus. Six of his intimate friends are also absent, I notice. They must have gone with him. Yet what are seven discontented men - seven against five hundred? A negligible minority. And is theirs a genuine discontent or is it personal ambition?
‘I condemn my cousin’s, action on three counts: the first, that he is ungrateful; the second, that he is disloyal-, the third, that he is foolish. His ingratitude: the Father of the Country freely forgave him for supporting me as a candidate for the monarchy and has shown great tolerance since of hiss impertinent and obstructive speeches in this House. His disloyalty: he engaged himself by an oath to obey Tiberius Claudius Caesar as the Head of the State. A breach of this oath could only be excused in the unlikely event of Caesar flagrantly breaking his oath to rule justly, with respect for the common good; Caesar has not broken his oath. Disloyalty to Caesar is therefore impiety to the Gods by whom Vinicianus swore, and enmity to the State, which is more content than ever before to be ruled by Caesar. His folly: though it is possible that Scribonianus may persuade a few thousand of his troops by lies and bribes to invade Italy and may even win a few military successes, does any member of this honourable House really believe that he is destined to be our Emperor? Does anyone believe that the Guards, our chief bulwark, will secede to him? The Guards are not fools: they know when they are well off. The Senate and People are not fools either: they know that under Claudius they are enjoying a liberty and prosperity consistently denied them by his immediate predecessors. Scribonianus cannot impose himself on the City except by promising to redress existing wrongs; and it will puzzle him to find any wrongs to redress. As I see the case, my Lords, this promised revolt is actuated by personal jealousy and personal ambition. We are now asked: not merely to exchange an Emperor who has proved himself in every way worthy of our admiration and obedience for one of whose capacities we know little and whose intentions we suspect, but to run the risk of a bloody Civil War. For supposing that Caesar were persuaded to resign, would the armies necessarily acknowledge Scribonianus as their commander? There are several men of rank far more capable of undertaking the monarchy than Scribonianus. What is there to prevent some other corps-commander with four regular regiments at his back, instead of Scribonianus’s two from setting himself up as a rival Emperor and marching on Rome? And even if Scribonianus’s attempt were to succeed, which I regard as most unlikely; what of Vinicianus? Would he be content to bow the knee to the haughty Scribonianus? Has he not perhaps offered his support only on the understanding that the Empire shall be shared between them?’ And if so, may we not expect another death-duel to be fought, as once between Pompey and the God Julius Caesar, and. again between Mark Antony and the God Augustus? No, my Lords. This is a case where our loyalty, our gratitude, and our interest go hand in hand. We must loyally support Tiberius Claudius Caesar if we wish to earn the thanks of the country, the approval of the Gods, and our own self-congratulations later when Vinicianus and Scribonianus have met the traitors’ deaths that they so richly deserve.’
Then Rufrius spoke. ‘I regard it as unfortunate that the possibility of. the Guards’ disloyalty has been so much as mentioned in this House. As their Commander I repudiate the notion that: even a single man will forget his duty to the Emperor. You must recall, my Lords, that it was the Guards who first called upon Tiberius Claudius Caesar, now the Father of the Country, to undertake the supreme command of the Army, and that this House was for a time unwilling to confirm their choice. It therefore ill befits a senator to suggest, that the Guards will be disloyal. No, as they were the first to acclaim Tiberius Claudius Caesar Emperor, so they will be the last to desert his cause. And if news reaches the Camp that the, Senate has decided to offer the supreme command to any other person - in that case, my Lords, I advise you immediately on reaching the decision either to fortify this edifice as best you can with barricades of benches and piles of cobble-stones, or to adjourn sine die and scatter in all directions.’
So I was given a unanimous vote of confidence and the Senate authorized, me to write to Scribonianus, informing him that he was suspended from his command and must return to Rome forthwith to explain himself. But Scribonianus never received my letter. He was already dead.
I shall tell you what had happened, Having succeeded, as he thought, in making himself very popular with his, troops by relaxation of discipline, plenty of free entertainments and a wine ration increased at his own expense, he had paraded the Seventh and Eleventh Regiments together in the local amphitheatre and told them that his life was in danger. He read them Vinicianus’s letter, or most of it, and asked them whether they would stand by him in his attempt to deliver Rome from, a tyranny which seemed to be rapidly becoming as capricious and cruel as that of Caligula. ‘The Republic must be restored,’ he shouted. ‘Only under the Republic has true liberty ever been enjoyed.’ He sowed with the sack, as the saying is, and some of the seed seemed to sprout at once. The common soldiers smelt money in his tones: they liked money, and it seemed most unjust that so generous a commander should be sacrificed to my anger or jealousy. They cheered him, loudly, and also cheered Vinicianus, who had once commanded, the Eleventh Regiment; and swore to follow them both, if need be, to the ends of the earth. Scribonianus promised them ten gold pieces each, on the spot, a further forty each on arrival in Italy, and a further 100 each on the day that they marched victoriously into. Rome. He paid out the ten gold pieces and sent them back; to camp, ordering them to hold themselves in readiness for the coming campaign., The call would come as soon as the transports, arrived from Italy and the native levies were under arms. But Scribonianus had made a great mistake in underrating the loyalty and intelligence of his men. True, they could be easily worked up into a state of temporary indignation on his behalf and were not above accepting gifts in coin while in that mood; but an overt breach of their soldiers’ oath was a different matter. That wasn’t so easily bought. They would follow him to the ends of the earth; but not to Rome, its centre. It would take more than ten gold pieces a man to persuade them to embark for Italy, with a promise of forty more, on landing. To leave their province and invade Italy was to make rebellion, and the punishment for unsuccessful rebellion-was death, death in battle, or death under the executioner’s sword - perhaps even death by flogging or crucifixion if the Emperor felt like making an example of them.
A meeting of officers was called to decide whether to follow Scribonianus or not. Some sympathy was expressed for him, but no great desire to resort to rebellion. In any case nobody wanted the Republic to be restored. Scribonianus had told them that he counted on their support, and hinted that he would give them over to the just fury of the common soldiers if they refused to join him in so glorious a cause as the restoration of ancient Roman liberties. They decided to play for time. They sent him a deputation informing him that they were not yet agreed among themselves, but would let him know of their common decision - if he would forgive them their conscientious hesitations - on the day that the expedition sailed. Scribonianus told them to please themselves - he had plenty of capable men to put in their places-but warned them that if they declined to join him they must be prepared to die for their obstinacy. More important than this meeting of officers, there was also held a secret meeting of standard-bearers, sergeants, and corporals, all men of over twelve years’ service and most of them married to Dalmatian women, because all their service had been done here: a Roman legion was almost never shifted from one province to another. The Seventh and Eleventh, in fact, looked on Dalmatia as their permanent home and had no interests or ideas beyond making themselves as comfortable as possible there and defending their possessions.
The Eagle-bearer of the Seventh addressed the meeting: ‘Lads, you’ don’t really intend to follow the General to Italy, do you? It looks like a very foolish adventure to me, quite apart from the matter of regimental honour. We’ve sworn allegiance to Tiberius Claudius Caesar, haven’t we? He’s proved himself’ a decent man, hasn’t he? He may have a down on old Scribonianus, but who knows on which side the right lies? Old Scribonianus can have his downs, we’ve all noticed. Why not leave the two of them to settle their own differences? I’m ready, to fight Germans, Moors, Parthians, Jews, Britons, Arabians, Chinese send me where you like - that’s my job as an enlisted man. But I’m not going to do any fighting in Italy against the Guards Division. The Emperor’s very popular with them, I’m told, and besides it’s ridiculous in my opinion to think of us and them fighting each other. The General ought never to have asked us. Personally, I haven’t spent that gift of his, and I don’t intend to do so. My vote is that we call the whole business off.’
Everyone agreed. But the young soldiers and the hard cases old soldiers with bad characters had grown so excited now with the hope of easy money and plenty of loot that the question before the meeting was how to call, the rebellion off without, putting themselves into a false position. Someone had a sensible idea. A mutiny among these very regiments thirty years before had been quelled suddenly by an ominous sign from Heaven - an eclipse, followed by torrential rain: why not now provide another ominous sign to discourage the rebellion? So they decided on a suitable one.
Five days later the order came from Scribonianus for the regiments to march down to the port fully armed, rationed, and equipped, prepared to embark at once for Italy. The Eagle-bearers of the Seventh and Eleventh simultaneously reported to their commanders that they had been unable that morning to dress the Eagles in the customary, way with laurel garlands. The garlands had fallen off as soon as they tied them on, and immediately withered away! Then the standard-bearers-also came running in pretended consternation to report another miracle: the standards had refused to be pulled out from the earth into which they had been stuck! The officers were only too pleased to hear of these dreadful omens and reported them to Scribonianus. Scribonianus flew into a rage and came rushing into the camp of the Eleventh. ‘You say that the standards refuse to be moved, you, liars?. It’s because you’re a pack of cowards and haven’t’ the courage of dogs. Look! Who says that this standard can’t be moved?’ He went up to the nearest standard and heaved at it. He heaved and tugged and strained until the veins stood. out on his forehead like cords: but he couldn’t so much as budge the thing. As a matter of fact, it had been secretly planted in concrete on the night of the meeting, and so had all the other standards, with earth heaped above. The concrete had set like rock.
Scribonianus saw that all was lost.. He shook his fist at Heaven and running down to the port jumped aboard his private yacht and told his crew to cast off and stand out to sea at once. He was making for Italy, intending, I suppose, to warn Vinicianus of his failure. But instead the crew put him ashore at the island of Lissa, near Corfu, suspecting that his plans had gone astray and not wishing to have anything more to do with him. One freedman alone remained with him and was present when he committed suicide. Vinicianus also killed himself when the news reached him a day or two later; so did most of his fellow-rebels. The revolt was over.
I shall not pretend that I did not spend an anxious ten days - In between addressing the Senate and hearing the happy news of Scribonianus’s failure. I grew very excitable, and if it had not been for Xenophon’s exertions I should probably have had a serious return of my old nervous trouble. But he dosed me with this and that and kept me well massaged and encouraged me, in his dry way, to have no fears for the future; and so steered me through without serious damage to my health. A verse of Homer’s stuck in my head and I kept repeating it to everyone I met: Do thou resist that man with all thy might Who, unprovoked, provokes thee to a fight.
I even gave it to Rufrius one day as a watchword. Messalina teased me about it, but I had an answer ready: ‘It stuck in Homer’s mind too. He used it again and again. Once in the Iliad and two or three times in the Odyssey.’ Messalina’s devotion was a great comfort, and so were the loyal shouts of the citizens and the soldiers whenever I appeared in public, and the confidence that the Senate seemed to feel in me.
I rewarded the Seventh and Eleventh by asking the Senate to rename them ‘The Loyal Claudian Regiments’, and on Messalina’s insistence (Vitellius agreed with her that it was no occasion for an amnesty) I put to death the principal rebels who survived. I did not, however, execute them summarily, as I had executed Silanus, but gave them each in turn a formal trial. The procedure that I adopted was to read the charge sitting on a chair of state with the Consuls standing one on either side of me. I would then retire to my ordinary seat and the Consuls would call for their own chairs of state and conduct the trial as judges. I happened to be suffering from a severe cold, which reduced my voice, never very strong, to a whisper; but I had Narcissus, Polybius, and the Guards colonels at my side, and if I wished to cross-examine a prisoner or witness I would hand one of them a list of questions to ask on my behalf, or whisper them to him. Narcissus made the best mouthpiece, so I employed him more often than the rest: this caused a misunderstanding. He was later represented by my enemies as having conducted the prosecution on his own initiative - a mere freedman prosecuting noble Romans, what a scandal 1 Narcissus certainly had a very assured, independent manner and I must admit that I joined in the general laugh against him, when Scribonianus’s faithful freedman, whom he was cross-examining, proved his master in repartee.