 12. Book 3 Part 2 of the Histories by Publius Cornelius Tastus. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Recording by Andrew Corman. The Histories by Publius Cornelius Tastus. Translated by Alfred John Church and William Jackson Broderib. Book 3 September to December AD 69 Part 2 On this becoming known to Antonius, he determined to attack the hostile armies while they were still distracted in feeling and divided in strength. Before the generals could recover their authority and the soldiers their subordination, along with that confidence which would spring from the junction of the legions. He concluded indeed that Fabius Falens had left the capital and would hasten his march on hearing of the treason of Chaichina, and Fabius was loyal to Vitellius and not without some military skill. At the same time, he dreaded the approach of a vast body of Germans by way of Rightia. Vitellius had also summoned reinforcements from Britain, gold and Spain, whose arms would have wasted like a widespread pestilence. Had not Antonius, fearful of this very danger, hurried on an engagement and thus secured his victory. He reached Bedriacum with his whole army in two days march from Verona. The next day, keeping the legions to fortify the position, he sent the auxiliary infantry into the territories of Cremona, ostensibly to collect supplies, really to imbue the soldiery with a taste for the spoils of civil war. He himself advanced with 4,000 cavalry as far as the eighth milestone from Bedriacum in order that they might plunder with greater freedom. The scouts, as usual, took a wider range. It was almost eleven o'clock when a horseman arrived at full speed with the news that the enemy were approaching, that a small body was moving in front, but that the stir and noise could be heard far and wide. While Antonius was deliberating as to what was to be done, Arius Verus, eager to do his best, charged with the bravest of the cavalry and drove back the Vitellianists, inflicting upon them some slight loss. As more came up, the fortune of the day changed, and those who had been most eager in the pursuit found themselves last in the flight. This rash act did not originate with Antonius. He anticipated, in fact, what actually happened. He now urged his soldiers to enter on the battle with a good heart. He then drew off the squadrons of his cavalry to the two flanks, leaving in the midst an open space in which to receive Verus and his troopers. The legions were ordered to arm themselves. Signals were made over the country that every man should leave plundering and join the battle at the nearest point. Meanwhile, the terroristic and Verus plunged into the disordered ranks of his friends and brought a panic with him. The fresh troops were driven back along with the wounded fugitives, confused by their own alarm and by the difficulties of the road. In the midst of this panic, Antonius omitted nothing that a self-possessed commander or a most intrepid soldier could do. He threw himself before the terrified fugitives. He held back those who were giving way, and wherever the struggle was hardest, wherever there was a gleam of hope, there he was with his ready skill, his bold hand, his encouraging voice easily recognised by the enemy, at a conspicuous object to his own men. At last he was carried to such a pitch of excitement that he transfixed with a lance a flying standard bearer, and then, seizing the standard, turned it towards the enemy. Touched by the reproach, a few troopers, not more than a hundred in number, made a stand. The locality favoured them, for the road was at their point particularly narrow, while the bridge over the stream which crossed it had been broken down, and the stream itself, with its varying channel at its precipitous banks, checked their flight. It was this necessity, or a happy chance, that restored the fallen fortunes of the party. Forming themselves into strong and close ranks, they received the attack of the Vitellianists, who are now imprudently scattered. These were at once overthrown. Antonius pursued those that fled, and crushed those that encountered him. Then came the rest of his troops, who, as they were severally disposed, plundered, made prisoners, or seized on weapons and horses. Roused by the shouts of triumph, those who had lately been scattered in flight over the fields, hastened to share in the victory. At the fourth milestone from Cremona, glittered the standards of two legions, the Italica and the Repax, which had been advanced as far as that point during the success achieved by the first movement of their cavalry. But when fortune changed, they would not open their ranks, nor receive the fugitives, nor advance and themselves attack an enemy now exhausted by so protracted a pursuit and conflict. Vanquished by accident, these men had never in their success valued their general as much as they now in disaster felt his absence. The victorious cavalry charged the wavering line. The tribune Vipstana's Missala followed with the auxiliary troops from Meshia, whom, though hurriedly brought up, long service had made as good soldiers as the legionaries. The horse and foot, thus mixed together, broke through the line of the legions, the near neighbourhood of the fortifications of Cremona, while it gave more hope of escape, diminished the vigour of their resistance. Antonius did not press forward, for he thought of the fatigue and the wounds with which a battle so hard fought, notwithstanding his successful termination, must have disabled his cavalry and their horses. As the shadows of evening deepened, the whole strength of the Flavianist army came up. They advanced amid heaps of dead, and the traces of recent slaughter. And, as if the war was over, demanded that they should advance to Cremona and receive the capitulation of the vanquished party, or take the place by storm. This was the motive alleged, and it sounded well. But what everyone said to himself was this. The colony, situated as it is on level ground, may be taken by assault. If we attack under cover of darkness, we shall be at least as bold, and shall enjoy more licence in plunder. If we wait for the light, we shall be met within treaties for peace, and in return for our toil and our wounds shall receive only the empty satisfaction of clemency and praise. But the wealth of Cremona will go into the purses of the legates and the prefects. The soldiers have the plunder of a city that is stormed, the generals of one which capitulates. The centurions and tribunes were spurned away. That no man's voice might be heard. The troops clashed their weapons together, ready to break through all discipline, unless they were led as they wished. Antonius then made his way into the companies. When his presence and personal authority had restored silence, he declared, I would not snatch their glory or their reward from those who have deserved them so well. Yet there is a division of duties between the army and its generals. Eagerness for battle becomes the soldiers. But generals serve the cause by forethought, by council, by delay oftener than by temerity. As I promoted your victory to the utmost of my power by my sword and by my personal exertions, so now I must help you by prudence and by council, the qualities which belong peculiarly to a general. What you will have to encounter is indeed perfectly plain. There will be the darkness, the strange localities of the town, the enemy inside the walls, and all possible facilities for ambush gates. Even if the gates were wide open, we ought not to enter the place, except we had first reconnoited it and in the daytime. Shall we set about storming the town when we have no means seeing where the ground is level? What is the height of the walls? Whether the city is to be assailed by our artillery and javelins or by siege works and covered approaches? He then turned to individual soldiers, asking them whether they had brought with them their axes and spades and whatever else is used when towns are to be stormed, on their admitting that they had not done so. Can any hands, he answered, break through and undermine walls with swords and lances? And if it should be found necessary to throw up an embankment and to shelter ourselves under mantlets and hurdles, shall we stand baffled like a thoughtless mob, marvelling at the height of the towers and at the enemy's defences? Shall we not rather, by delaying one night till our artillery and engines come up, take with us a strength that must prevail? At the same time, he sent the suitlers and camp-followers, with the freshest of the cavalry, to Bedriarchham, to fetch supplies and whatever else they needed. The soldiers, however, were impatient, and a mutiny had almost broken out when some cavalry, who had advanced to the very walls of Cremona, seized some stragglers from the town, from whose information it was ascertained that the six legions of Vitellius and the entire army which had been courted at Hostilia had on that very day marched a distance of 30 miles, and having heard of the defeat of their comrades, were preparing for battle, and would soon be coming up. This alarm opened the ears that had before been deft to their general's advice. The 13th Legion was ordered to take up its position on the raised causeway of the Via Pestumia, supported on the left by the 7th Galbus, which was posted in the plain. Next came the 7th Claudiuses, defended in front by a field ditch such being the character of the ground. On the right was the 8th Legion, drawn up in an open space, and then the 3rd, whose ranks were divided by some thick brushwood. Such was the arrangement of the Eagles and the Stadards. The soldiers were mingled in the darkness as accident had determined. The praetorian colours were close to the 3rd Legion. The auxiliary infantry were stationed on the wings. The cavalry covered the flanks and the rear. Cido and Italicus, the Suaveian chieftains, with a picked body of their countrymen, maneuvered in the van. It would have been the best policy for the army of Italius to rest at Cremona, and with strength recruited by food and repose to attack and crush the next day an enemy exhausted by cold and hunger. But now, wanting a leader, and having no settled plan, they came into collision about nine o'clock at night with the Flavianus troops who stood ready and in order of battle, respecting the disposition of the Vitellianist army, disordered as it was by its fury and by the darkness, I would not venture to speak positively. Some, however, have related that on the right wing was the 4th Legion, the Macedonian, that the 5th and 15th, with the veterans of three British Legions, the 9th, 2nd and 20th, from the centre, while the left wing was made up of the 1st, the 16th and the 22nd. Men of the Legion's repacks and Italica were mingled with all the companies. The cavalry and the auxiliaries chose their position themselves. Throughout the night the battle raged in many forms, indecisive and fierce, destructive, first to one side then to the other. Courage, strength, even the eye with its keenest sight were of no avail. Both armies fought with the same weapons. The watchword, continually asked, became known. The colours were confused together as parties of competence snatched them from the enemy and hurried them in this or that direction. The 7th Legion, recently levied by Galba, was the hardest pressed. Six centurions of the 1st rank were killed and some of the standards taken, but the eagle was saved by Attilius Verus, the centurion of the 1st company, who, after making a great slaughter among the enemy, at last fell. The line was supported, as it began to waver, by Antonius, who brought up the Praetorians. They took up the conflict, repulsed the enemy, and were then themselves repulsed. The troops of Vitellius had collected their artillery on the raised causeway, where there was a free and open space for the discharge of the missiles, which had first had been scattered at random, and had struck against the trees without injury to the enemy. An engine of remarkable size, belonging to the 15th Legion, was crushing the hostile ranks with huge stones, and would have spread destruction far and wide, had not two soldiers ventured on a deed of surpassing bravery. Disguising themselves with shields snatched from the midst of the carnage, they cut the ropes and springs of the engine. They were instantly slain, and the names have consequently been lost. But the fact is undoubted. Fortune favoured neither side, till at a late hour of the night, the moon rose and showed, but showed deceptively, both armies. The light, however, shining from behind, favoured the Flavianists. With them, a lengthened shadow fell from men and horses, and the enemy's missiles, incorrectly aimed at what seemed the substance, fell short. While the Vitellianists, who had the light shining on their faces, were unconsciously exposed to an enemy who were, so to speak, concealed while they aimed. As soon as Antonius could recognise his men, and be recognised by them, he sought to kindle their courage, striving to shame some with his reproaches, stirring many with praise and encouragement, and all with hopes and promises. Why, he demanded of the legions of Pannonia, have you again taken up arms? Yonder is the field where you may wipe out the stain of past disgrace, and redeem your honour. Then turning to the troops of Mesia, he appealed to them as the authors and originators of the war. Idly, he said, have you challenged the Vitellianists with threatening words, if you cannot abide their attack or even their looks? So he spoke to each as he approached them. The third legion, he addressed at greater length, reminding them of old and recent achievements, how under Marcus Antonius they had defeated the Parthians, under Corpulo the Armenians, and had lately discomfited the Sarmatians. Then angrily turning to the Prytorians, clowns said he, unless you are victorious, what other general, what other camp will receive you. There are your colours and your arms. Defeat is death for disgrace you have exhausted. A shout was raised on all sides, and the soldiers of the third legion saluted, as is the custom in Syria, the rising sun. A vague rumour thus arose, or was intentionally suggested by the general, that Mochianus had arrived, and that the two armies had exchanged salutations. The men then charged as confidently as if they had been strengthened by fresh reinforcements, while the enemy's array was now less compact. For as there was no one to command, it was now contracted, now extended, as the courage or fear of individual soldiers might prompt. Antonius, seeing that they gave way, charged them with a heavy column. The loose ranks were at once broken, and, entangled as they were among their wagons and artillery, could not be reformed. The conquerors in the eagerness of pursuit dispersed themselves over the entire line of road. The slaughter that followed was made particularly memorable through the murder of a father by his son. I will record the incident with the names, on the authority of Vipstana's Missala. Julius Mansuetas, a Spaniard enlisting in the legion repacks, had left at home a son of tender age. The lad grew up to manhood, and was enrolled by Galba in the seventh legion. Now, chanceing to meet his father, he brought him to the ground with a wound, and, as he rifled his dying foe, recognised him, and was himself recognised. Clasping the expiring man in his arms, in piteous accents, he implored the spirit of his father to be propitious to him, and not to turn from him with loathing as from a parasite. This guilt, he said, is shared by all, how smaller part of a civil war is a single soldier. With these words, he raised the body, opened a grave, and discharged the last duties for his father. This was noticed by those who were on the spot, then by many others. Astonishment and indignation ran through the whole army, and they cursed this most horrible war. Yet, as eagerly as ever, they stripped the bodies of slaughtered kinsfolk, connections, and brothers. They talked of an impious act having been done, and they do it themselves. When they reached Cremona, a fresh work of vast difficulty presented itself. During the war with Otho, the legions of Germany had formed their camp round the walls of the city, round this camp had drawn an entrenchment, and had again strengthened these defences. At this site, the victorious army hesitated, while the generals doubted what orders they should give. To attempt an assault with troops exhausted by the trial of a day and a night would be difficult, and with no proper reserves might be perilous. Should they return to Bedriarcham, the fatigue of so long a march would be insupportable, and their victory would result in nothing. To entrench a camp with the enemies so close at hand would be dangerous, as by a sudden sortie they might cause confusion among them while dispersed and busied with the work. Above all, they were afraid of their soldiers, who were more patient of danger than delay. Corsious measures they disliked, their rashness inspired them with hope, and eagerness for plunder outweid all the horrors of carnage, wounds, and bloodshed. Antonius himself was this way inclined, and he ordered the entrenched camp to be invested. At first they fought from a distance with arrows and stones, the Flavianists suffering most, as the enemy's missiles were aimed at them from a superior height. Antonius then assigned to each legion the attack on some portion of the entrenchments, and on one particular gate, seeking by this division of labour to distinguish the cowardly from the brave, and to stimulate his men by an honourable rivalry. The third and seventh legions took up a position close to the road from Bedriarcham. More to the right of the entrenchments were stationed the eighth and the seventh Claudiuses. The thirteenth were carried by the impetuousity of their attack, as far as the gate looking towards Brixia. They ensued a little delay, while from the neighbouring fields some were collecting spades and pickaxes, others hooks and ladders. Then, raising their shields over their heads, they advanced to the rampart in a dense testudo. Both used the arts of Roman warfare. The Vitellianists rolled down ponderous stones and drove spears and long poles into the broken and tottering testudo, till the dense array of shields was loosened and the ground was strewn with a vast number of lifeless and mangled bodies. Some hesitation had shown itself, when the generals, seeing that the weary troops would not listen to what seemed to them unmeaning encouragement, pointed to Cremona. Whether this was, as Masala relates, the device of Hormes, or whether Caeus Plinius be the better authority when he charges it upon Antonius, I cannot easily determine. All I can say is this, that neither in Antonius nor in Hormes, with this foulest of crimes have been a degeneracy from the character of their former lives. Wounds or bloodshed no longer kept the men back from undermining the rampart and battering the gates. Supported on the shoulders of comrades and forming a second testudo, they clambered up and seized the weapons and even the hands of the enemy. The unhurt and the wounded, the half dead and the dying, were mingled together with every incident of slaughter and death in every form. The fiercest struggle was maintained by the third and seventh legions, and Antonius in person, with some chosen auxiliaries, concentrated his efforts on the same point. The Vitellianists unable to resist the combined and resolute attack and finding that their missiles glided off the testudo at last threw the engine itself on the assailants. For a moment it broke and overwhelmed those on whom it fell, but it drew after it in its fall the battlements and upper part of the rampart. At the same time, an adjoining tower yielded to the volleys of stones, and while the seventh legion in wedge-like array was endeavouring to force an entrance, the third broke down the gate with axes and swords. All authors are agreed that Caeus Volusius, a soldier of the third legion, entered first. Beating down all who opposed him, he mounted the rampart, waved his hand and shouted aloud that their camp was taken. The rest of the legion burst in while the troops of Vitellius were seized with panic and threw themselves from the rampart. The entire space between the camp and the walls of Cremona was filled with slain. Difficulties of another kind presented themselves in the lofty walls of the town, its stone towers, its iron barred gates, in the garrison who stood brandishing their weapons, in its numerous population devoted to the interests of Vitellius, and in the vast conflicts from all parts of Italy which had assembled at the fair regularly held at that time. The besieged found a source of strength in these large numbers. The assailants an incentive in the prospect of booty. Antonius gave orders that fire should instantly be set to the finest buildings without the city, to see whether the inhabitants of Cremona might not be induced by the loss of their property to transfer their allegiance. Some houses near the walls, which overtopped the fortifications, he filled with the briefest of his soldiers who, by hurling beams, tiles and flaming missiles, dislodged the defenders from the ramparts. The legions now began to form themselves into a testudo, and the other troops to discharge follies of stones and darts when the courage of the Vitellianists began to flag. The higher their rank, the more readily they succumb to fortune. Fearing that when Cremona had fallen, quarter could no longer be expected, and that all the fury of the conqueror would be turned, not on the penniless crowd, but on the tribunes and centurions by whose slaughter something was to be gained. The common soldiers, careless of the future, and safer in their obscurity, still held out. Roaming through the streets, or concealed in the houses, they would not sue for peace even when they had abandoned the contest. The principal officers of the camp removed the name and images of Vitellius. Caekina, who was still in confinement, they released from his chains imploring him to plead their cause. When he haughtily rejected their suit, they entreated him with tears, and it was indeed the last aggravation of misery that many valiant men should invoke the aid of a traitor. Then they displayed from the walls the olive branches and chaplets of suppliants, and when Antonius had ordered that the discharge of missiles should cease, they brought out the eagles and stadards. Then followed, with eyes bent on the ground, a dismal array of unarmed men. The conquerors had gathered round. At first they heaped reproaches on them and pointed at them their weapons, then seeing how they offered their cheeks to insulting blows, how, with all their high spirit departed, they submitted as vanquished men to every indignity. It suddenly occurred to their recollection that these were the very soldiers who, but shortly before, had used with moderation their victory at Bedriarchum. Yet when Caekina, the consul, conspicuous in his robes of state, and with his train of victors, came forward, thrusting aside the crowd, the victors were fired with indignation, and reproached him with his tyranny, his cruelty, and so hateful are such crimes, even with his treason, Antonius checked them, gave him an escort, and sent him to Vespasian. Meanwhile, the population of Cremona was roughly handled by the soldiers, who were just beginning a massacre, when their fury was mitigated by the entreaties of the generals. Antonius summoned them to an assembly, extolled the conquerors, spoke kindly to the conquered, but said nothing either way of Cremona. Over and above the innate love of plunder, there was an old feud which made the army bent on the destruction of the inhabitants. It was generally believed that in the war with Otho, as well as in the present, they had supported the cause of Vitellius. Afterwards, when the thirteenth legion had been left to build an amphitheater, with the characteristic insolence of a city population, they had wantonly provoked and insulted them. The ill feeling had been aggravated by the gladiatorial show exhibited there by Caekina, by the circumstance that their city was now for the second time the seat of war, and by the fact that they had supplied the Vitellianists with provisions in the field, and that some of their women, taken by party zeal into the battle, had there been slain. The occurrence of the fair filled the colony, rich as it always was, with an appearance of still greater wealth. The other generals were unnoticed. Antonius from his success and high reputation was observed of all. He had hastened to the barns to wash off the blood, and when he found fault with the temperature of the water, an answer was heard, that it would soon be warm enough. Thus the words of a slave brought on him the whole odium of having given the signal for firing the town, which was indeed already in flames. Forty-thousand armed men burst into Cremona, and with them a body of suitlers and camp-followers, yet more numerous and yet more abandoned to lust and cruelty. Neither age nor rank were any protection from indiscriminate slaughter and violation. Ageate men and women passed their prime, worthless as booty, were dragged about in wanton insult. Did a grown-up maiden or youth of marked beauty fall in their way? They were torn in pieces by the violent hands of gravishers, and in the end the destroyers themselves were provoked into mutual slaughter. Men, as they carried off for themselves cwyan or temple offerings of massive gold, were cut down by others of superior strength. Some, scorning what met the eye, searched for hidden wealth, and dug up buried treasures, applying the scourge and the torture to the owners. In their hands were flaming torches, which, as soon as they had carried out the spoil, they wantonly hurled into the gutted houses and plundered temples. In an army which included such varieties of language and character, an army comprising ruined citizens, allies, and foreigners, there was every kind of lust, each had a law of his own, and nothing was forbidden. For four days Cremona satisfied the plunderers, when all things else, sacred and forfein, were settling down into the flames. The temple of Mephitis, outside the walls, alone remained standing, saved by its situation or by divine interposition. Such was the end of Cremona, two hundred and eighty-six years after its foundation. It was built in the consulship of Tiberius Cymprunius and Cornelius Scipio, when Hannibal was threatening Italy, as a protection against the Gauls from beyond the Paedus, or against any other sudden invader from the Alps. From the number of settlers, the conveniences afforded by the rivers, the fertility of the soil, and the many connections and intermarriages formed with neighbouring nations, it grew and flourished, unharmed by foreign enemies, though most unfortunate in civil wars. Ashamed of the atrocious deed, and aware of the detestation which it was inspiring, Antonius issued a proclamation, that no one should detain in captivity a citizen of Cremona. The spoil indeed had been rendered valueless to the soldiers by a general agreement throughout Italy, which rejected with loathing the purchase of such slaves. A massacre then began. When this was known, the prisoners were secretly ransomed by their friends and relatives. The remaining inhabitants soon returned to Cremona. The temples and squares were restored by the munificence of the burgers, and Vespasian gave his exhortations. The soil, poisoned with blood, forbade the enemy to remain long by the ruins of the buried city. They advanced to the third milestone, and gathered the dispersed and panic-stricken Viteleonists round their proper standards. The vanquished legions were then scattered throughout Illyricum, for civil war was not over and they might play a doubtful part. Messengers carrying news of the victory were then dispatched to Britain and to Spain. Julius Calinas, a tribune, was sent to Gaul, and Alpinius Montanas, prefect of a cohort to Germany. As the one was aniduin, the other a travers, and both were Viteleonists, they would be a proof of the success. At the same time, the passes of the Alps were occupied with troops, though it was suspected that Germany was arming itself to support Vitellius. End of Book 3 Part 2 Recording by Andrew Cormann Section 13 Book 3 Part 3 of the Histories by Publius Cornelius Tastus This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org Recording by Andrew Cormann The Histories by Publius Cornelius Tastus Translated by Alfred John Church and William Jackson Brodrib Book 3 September to December AD 69 Part 3 A few days after the departure of Caekina, Vitellius had hurried Fabius Valens to the seat of war, and was now seeking to hide his apprehensions from himself by indulgence. He made no military preparation. He did not seek to invigorate the soldiers by encouraging speeches or warlike exercises. He did not keep himself before the eyes of the people. Buried in the shades of his gardens, like those sluggish animals, which, if you supply them with food, lie motionless and torpid. He had dismissed with the same forgetfulness, the past, the present and the future. While he thus lay wasting his powers in sloth among the woods of Arichia, he was startled by the treachery of Lucilius Bassus and the defection of the fleet at Revena. Then came the news about Caekina, and he heard with a satisfaction mingled with distress, first that he had revolted, and then that he had been put in irons by the army. In that dull soul, joy was more powerful than apprehension. In great exaltation he returned to Rome, and before a crowded assembly of the people, heaped praises on the dutiful obedience of the soldiers. He ordered Poblius Sabinas, prefect of the Praetorian Guard, to be thrown into prison because of his friendship with Caekina, and substituted in his place Alphinius Varus. He then addressed the Senate in a speech of studied grand eloquence, and was extolled by the Senators with elaborate adulation. A savage resolution against Caekina was moved by Lucius Vitaleus. The rest affected indignation at the idea that a consul had betrayed the state, a general his emperor, a man loaded with wealth so vast and honours so numerous his benefactor, and seemed to deplore the wrongs of Vitaleus, while they uttered their private griefs. Not a word from any one of them, disparaged the Flavianist leaders. They censured the delusion and recklessness of the armies, and with a prudent circumlocution avoided the name of the Spasian. A man was found who, while all regarded with great contempt both giver and receiver, wormed himself by flattery into the one day of office which remained to complete the consulate of Caekina. On the last day of October, Rosius Regulus both assumed and resigned the office. The learned remarked that never before had a new consul been elected without a formal act of deprivation and the passing of a law. Before this indeed, Cyninius Regulus had been consul for a single day during the dictatorship of Caeus Caesar when the prizes of the Civil War had to be enjoyed in haste. At this time, the murder of Junius Blisus obtained an infamous notoriety. Of this act I have heard the following account. Vitellius, who was suffering from severe illness, observed from the civilian gardens a neighbouring turret brilliantly illuminated throughout the night. Enquiring the cause, he was told that Caekina Tuscus was entertaining a large party of whom Junius Blisus was the most distinguished. Other particulars were given with much exaggeration about the splendour of the banquet and the unrestrained gaiety of the guests. There were persons who charged Tuscus and his guests and Blisus more vindictively than any, with passing their days in merriment while the emperor was sick. As soon as it was sufficiently clear to those who keenly watched the angry moods of princes that Vitellius was exasperated and that Blisus might be destroyed, the part of the informer was entrusted to Lucius Vitellius. An unworthy jealousy made him the enemy of Blisus, whose illustrious character raised him far above one who was stained with every infamy. He burst into the imperial chamber and, clasping to his bosom the emperor's son, fell at his knees. On Vitellius, enquiring the cause of his emotion, it is not, he replied, from any private apprehension, or because I am anxious for myself. It is for a brother and for a brother's children that I have come hither with my prayers and tears. It is idle to fear Vespasian when there are so many legions of Germany, so many provinces with their valour and their loyalty, and lastly so vast an extent of sea and land with enormous distances to keep him from us. In the capital, in the very bosom of the empire, there is the foe of whom we must beware, a foe who boasts of Junii and Antonii among his ancestors, who, claiming an imperial dissent, displays to soldiers his condescension and his magnificence. On him all thoughts are fixed, while Vitellius, regardless a like of friends and foes, is cherishing a rival who from his banqueting table gazes at the sufferings of his sovereign. For such ill-timed mirth, let him be recompensed with a night of sorrow and of death that he may know and feel that Vitellius still lives and reigns and has a son, if in the course of destiny anything should happen to himself. Vitellius, after wavering between his guilty purpose and his fears, dreading less to postpone the murder of Blicis might hasten his own ruin, while openly to order it might provoke terrible odium, determined to destroy him by poison. He gave a proof of his guilt by his marked joy when he visited Blicis. He was even heard to utter a most brutal speech, in which, I will relate the very words, he boasted that he had feasted his eyes on the spectacle of his enemy's death. Beside his noble birth and refinement of character, Blicis was a man of resolute loyalty. In the flourishing days of the party, when canvassed by Caikina and the leading men who were beginning to despise Vitellius, he persevered in rejecting their solicitations. A righteous man, and a lover of peace, who coveted no sudden elevation, much less the throne, he could not escape being thought to deserve it. Meanwhile, Fabius Valens, who was moving along with a vast and luxurious train of concubines and eunuchs, too totally for a general about to take the field, received speedy intelligence of the betrayal of the Revena fleet by Lucilius Bassus. Had he hastened the march which he had then begun, he might have come up with Caikina while still undecided, or have reached the legions previous to the decisive action. Some advised him to take a few of his most devoted soldiers, and avoid in Revena, to hurry on by unfrequented paths to Hastilia or Cremona. Others thought that he should summon the Praetorian cohots from Rome, and then force his way with a strong body of troops. But with ruinous delay, he wasted into liberation the opportunities of action. Eventually he rejected both plans, and did what is the very worst thing in circumstances of peril, attempted a middle course. And was neither bold enough on the one hand, nor cautious enough on the other. He wrote to Vitellius asking for aid. Three cohots with some British cavalry arrived, a force too numerous to a lewed observation, too small to force its way. Even amidst such perils Valens could not keep himself clear of the infamous reputation of grasping at unlawful gratifications, and polluting the houses of his hosts with intrigue and violation. He had power, he had money, and he indulged the lusts that are the last solace of desperate fortunes. At length, on the arrival of the infantry and cavalry, the folly of his plans became evident. With so smaller force, even had it been thoroughly loyal, he could not have made his way through the enemy, and the loyalty they had brought with them was not beyond suspicion. Yet shame and respect for the presence of their general held them in check, no lasting restraint with men who loved danger, and were careless of disgrace. Moved by this apprehension, Valens, while he retained a few attendants whom at first he had not changed, sent on the infantry to Arameinum, and ordered the cavalry to cover his rear. He then himself made his way to Umbria, and thence to Etruria, where, having learnt the issue of the Battle of Cremona, he conceived a plan not wanting in vigor, and which, had it succeeded, would have had terrible results. This was to seize some ships, to land on some part of Gallia Narbonensis, to rouse gall with its armies, as well as the tribes of Germany, and so to kindle a fresh war. The garrison of Arameinum were discouraged by the departure of Valens, and Cornelius Fuscus, bringing up his army and disposing his Libernian ships of the nearest points of the shore, invested the place by sea and land. His troops occupied the plains of Umbria, and their portion of the Picentine territory that is washed by the Adriatic, and now the whole of Italy was divided by the range of the Apennines between Vespasian and Vitellius. Valens, having started from the Bay of Pisa, was compelled, either by a calm or a contrary wind, to put in at the port of Hercules Monicus. Near this place was stationed Marius Maturus, procurator of the Maritime Alps, who was loyal to Vitellius, and who, though everything around him was hostile, had not yet thrown off his allegiance. While courteously receiving Valens, he deterred him by his advice from rashly invading Galliana Benensis, and now the fidelity of the rest of the party was weakened by their fears. In fact, the procurator Valerius Paulinus, an enterprising officer who had been a friend of Vespasian before his elevation to the throne, had made the neighbouring states where allegiance to that prince. Paulinus had collected all the troops who, having been disbanded by Vitellius, were now spontaneously taking up arms, and was holding with this force the colony of Forumulie, which commanded the sea. His influence was all the greater, because Forumulie was his native place, and because he was respected by the Praetorians, in which force he had once been a tribute. The inhabitants themselves, favouring a fellow townsman, and anticipating his future greatness, did their best to promote the cause. When these preparations, which were really formidable and were exaggerated by report, became known among the now-distracted Vitellianists, Fabius Valens returned to his ships with four soldiers of the bodyguard, three personal friends, and as many centurians, while Maturus and the rest chose to remain behind and swear allegiance to Vespasian. For Valens, indeed, the open sea was safer than the coast or the towns, yet, all uncertain about the future, and knowing rather what he must avoid than what he could trust, he was thrown by adverse weather on the Stochates, islands of Messilia, there he was captured by some Libernian ships dispatched by Paulinus. Valens once captured, if thing turned to swell the resources of the conqueror. The lead was taken in Spain by the first legion, the Adjutrix, whose recollections of Otto made them hate Vitellius. They drew with them the sixth and tenth. Gaul did not hesitate to follow. A partiality long felt in Britain for Vespasian, who had there commanded the second legion by the appointment of Claudius, and had served with distinction, attached that province to his cause, though not without some commotion among the other legions, in which were many centurians and soldiers promoted by Vitellius, who felt uneasy in exchanging for another ruler, one whom they knew already. These dissensions and the continual rumours of civil war raised the courage of the Britons. They were led by one Venutius, who, besides being naturally high-spirited and hating the name of Rome, was fired by his private animosity against Queen Cardis Mandua. Cardis Mandua ruled the Brigantes in virtue of her lustrous birth, and she strengthened her throne when, by the treacherous capture of King Characticus, he said that he would not be able to do it. Cardis Mandua was regarded as having given its chief distinction to the triumph of Claudius Caesar. Then followed wealth and the self-indulgence of prosperity. Spurning her husband Venutius, she made Velocartus, his armour-bearer, the partner of her bed and throne. By this enormity the power of her house was at once shaken to its base. On the side of the husband were the affections of the people, on that of the adulterer, the lust and savage temper of the Queen. Accordingly Venutius collected some auxiliaries and, aided at the same time by revolt of the Brigantes, brought Cardis Mandua into the utmost peril. She asked for some Roman troops and our auxiliary infantry and cavalry after fighting with various success, contrived to rescue the Queen from her peril. Venutius retained the kingdom, and we had the war on our hands. About the same time, Germany suffered from the supinness of our generals and the mutinous conduct of our legions, the assaults of enemies and the perfidy of allies, all but overthrew the power of Rome. Of this war, its origin and its issue, for it lasted long, I shall hear after speak. The Dacians also were in motion, a people which never can be trusted, and which, now that our legions were withdrawn from Misia, had nothing to fear. They quietly watched the opening of their campaign, but when they heard that Italy was in a blaze of war, and that the whole empire was divided against itself, they stormed the winter quarters of the auxiliary infantry and cavalry, and occupied both banks of the Danube. They were then preparing to destroy the camp of the legions, but Mochianus sent the sixth legion against them, for he knew of the victory of Cremona, and he feared this double pressure of barbarian power, with Dacians and Germans invading Italy from opposite sides. We were helped, as often before, by the good fortune of the Rome people, which brought to the spot Mochianus with the armies of the east, and by the decisive settlement which in the meantime was affected at Cremona. Frontier-Sagripper was removed from Misia, which province he had governed as proconsul for a year, to Misia, and had some troops given him from the army of Itelius, that this army should be dispersed through the provinces, and closely occupied with foreign wars, was sound policy, and essential to peace. All other nations were equally restless. A sudden outbreak had been excited in Pontus by a barbarian slave, who had before commanded the royal fleet. This was Anikitas, a freedman of Paleman, once a very powerful personage, who, when the kingdom was converted into a Roman province, ill-brooked the change. Accordingly, he raised in the name of Itelius the tribes that border on Pontus, bribed a number of very needy adventurers by the hope of plunder, and at the head of a force by no means contemptible, made a sudden attack on the old and famous city of Trapezes, founded by the Greeks on the furthest shore of the Pontus. There he destroyed a cohort, once a part of the royal contingent. They had afterwards received the privileges of citizenship, and while they carried their arms and banners in Roman fashion, they still retained the indolence and licence of the Greek. Anikitas also set fire to the fleet, and, as the sea was not guarded, escaped. For Mochianus had brought up by Zantium the best of the Libernian ships and all the troops. The barbarians even insulently scoured the sea in hastily constructed vessels of their own, called Camari, built with narrow sides and broad bottoms, and joined together without fastenings of brass or iron. Whenever the water is rough, they raise the bulwarks with additional planks, according to the increasing height of the waves, till the vessel is covered in like a house. Thus they roll about amid the billows, and as they have a prow at both extremities alike, at a convertible arrangement of ores, they may be paddled in one direction, or another indifferently and without risk. The matter attracted the attention of Vespasian, and induced him to dispatch some veterans from the legions under Verdius Geminus, a tried soldier. Finding the enemy in disorder, and dispersed in the eager pursuit of plunder, he attacked them, and drove them to their ships. Hastily fitting out a fleet of Libernian ships, he pursued Anakitas, and overtook him out the mouth of the river Cahibus, where he was protected by the king of the Ceddocesi, whose alliance he had secured by a sovereign money and other presents. This prince had first endeavoured to protect the supplient by a threat of hostilities. When, however, the choice was presented to him between war, and the profit to be derived from treachery, he consented, with the characteristic perfidy of barbarians to the destruction of Anakitas, and delivered up the refugees. So ended this servile war. Amidst the joy of this success, while everything was prosperous beyond his hopes, tidings of the victory of Cromona reached Vespasian in Egypt. This made him hasten his advance to Alexandria. For now that the army of Itelius was shattered, he sought to apply the pressure of famine to the capital, which is always dependent on foreign supplies. He was indeed also preparing to invade by sea and land the province of Africa, which lies on the same line of coast, intending by thus closing the supplies of corn to cause famine and dissension among the enemy. While with this worldwide convulsion the imperial power was changing hands, the conduct of Primus Antonius, after the fall of Cromona, was by no means as blameless as before. Either he believed that the necessities of the war had been satisfied, and that all else would follow easily, or perhaps success, working on such a temperament, developed his latent pride, rapacity, and other vices. He swept through Italy as if it were a conquered country, and caressed the legions as if they were his own. By all his words and acts, he sought to pay for himself the way to power. To imbue the army with a spirit of license, he offered to the legions the commissions of the centurions killed in the war. By their vote, the most turbulent men were elected. The soldiers in fact were not under the control of the generals, but the generals were themselves constrained to follow the furious impulses of the soldiers. These mutinous proceedings, so ruinous to discipline, Antonius soon turned to his own prophet, regardless of the near approach of Mochianus, and neglect more fatal than any contempt for Vespasian. As winter was approaching, and the low country was flooded by the Patus, the army marched on without its heavy baggage. The standards and eagles of the victorious legions, the old and wounded soldiers, and even many effective men, were left at Verona. The auxiliary infantry and cavalry, with some picked troops from the legions, appeared sufficient for a war that was all but finished. They had been joined by the 11th legion, which at first had hesitated, but now in the hour of success felt alarm at having stood aloof. A recent levy of 6,000 Dalmatians was attached to the legion. They were under the command of Pompeius Sylvainus, a man of consular rank. The real direction of affairs was in the hands of Anius Bassus, the legate of the legion. This officer contrived, under an appearance of submission, to govern Sylvainus, a leader without vigour, and apt to waste in words, the opportunities of action. Bassus, with his unobcrusive energy, was ready for everything that had to be done. To these forces were added the elite of the Marines of the Ravenna fleet, who demanded permission to serve in the legions. The crews were made up with Dalmatians. The army and generals halted at the Temple of Fortune, undecided as to their line of action. They had heard that the Praetorian Guard had marched out of Rome, and they supposed that the Abenines were occupied with troops. The generals, finding themselves in a country utterly impoverished by war, were terrified by the scarcity of provisions, and the mutinous clamours of the soldiery, who incessantly demanded the clavarium, as the donative was called. They had provided neither money nor corn, and they were embarrassed by the general impatience and rapacity. For what they might have obtained was plundered. I have the very highest authority for asserting, that there was among the conquerors such an impious disregard of right and wrong, that a private cavalry soldier declared he had slain his brother in the late battle, and claimed a reward from the generals. The common law of humanity on the one hand forbade them to reward this act of blood, the necessities of the war on the other, forbade them to punish it. They put him off on the ground that the obligation was too great to be immediately discharged. Nothing more is recorded. In the earlier civil wars, indeed, a similar horror had occurred. In the battle with Sinner at the Geniculum, a soldier in Pompey's army, as Ciciner tells us, slew his own brother, and on discovering the horrible deed he had committed, destroyed himself. So much more earnest among our ancestors was the honour paid to virtue, and the remorse that waited on crime. These, and like instances, drawn from the recollections of the past, I shall mention not irrelevantly whenever the subject and the occasion shall call for some example of goodness or some solace in the presence of evil. Antonius and the other generals of the party judged it expedient to send forward the cavalry, and explore the whole of Umbria for some point where the Abynines presented a more gentler scent, and also to bring up the eagles and standards, and all the troops at Verona, while they were to cover the Patus and the sea with convoys. Some that were among the generals, who were contriving delays, for Antonius, in fact, was now becoming too great a man, and the hopes for Mocchianus were more definite. That commander, troubled at so speedier success, and imagining that unless he occupied Rome in person, he should lose all share in the glory of the war, continued to write in ambiguous terms, De Varys and Antonius, enlarging at one time on the necessity of following up their operations, at another on the advantage of delay, and with expressions so worded that he could, according to the event, repudiate a disastrous or claim a successful policy. To Plotius Griffus, who had lately been raised by Vespasian to the senatorial rank, and appointed to Commander Legion, as well as to all others on whom he could fully rely, he gave plainer instructions. All these men sent replies reflecting unfavourably on the precipitancy of Varys and Antonius, and suiting the wishes of Mocchianus. By forwarding these letters to Vespasian, he had accomplished this much, that the measures and achievements of Antonius were not valued according to his hopes. Antonius was indignant and blamed Mocchianus, whose calamities had depreciated his own hazardous achievements, nor was he temperate in his expressions, for he was habitually violent in language and was unaccustomed to obey. He wrote a letter to Vespasian in terms more arrogant than should be addressed to an emperor, and not without implied reproach against Mocchianus. It was I, he said, who brought into the field the legions of Pannonia. My instigations roused the generals in Misia. My courageous resolution forced a passage through the Alps, seized on Italy, and cut off the suckers from Germany and Russia. The discomforture of the disunited and scattered legions of Vitellius by a fierce charge of cavalry, and afterwards by the steady strength of the infantry in a conflict that lasted for a day and a night, was indeed a most glorious achievement, and it was my work. For the destruction of Cremona, the war must be answerable. The civil strife of former days cost the state more terrible loss and the overthrow of many cities. Not with messages and letters, but with my arm and my sword have I served my emperor. I would not seek to hinder the renown of those who in the meanwhile have reduced Asia to tranquility. They had at heart the peace of Misia, I the safety and security of Italy. By my earnest representations Gaul and Spain, the most powerful region of the world, have been won for Vespasian. But all my efforts have been wasted, if they alone who have not shared the peril obtain its rewards. The meaning of all this did not escape Mochianus, and there arose a deadly feud, cherished by Antonius with frankness, by Mochianus with reserve, and therefore with a greater bitterness. End of Book 3 Part 3 Recording by Andrew Coleman Section 14 Book 4 Part 1 of the Histories by Publius Cornelius Tastus This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org Recording by Andrew Coleman The Histories by Publius Cornelius Tastus Translated by Alfred John Church and William Jackson Brodrib Book 3 September to December AD 69 Part 4 Vitelius, after his power had been shattered at Cremona, endeavoured to suppress the tidings of the disaster. By this foolish attempt at concealment, he put off not indeed his troubles, but only the application of the remedy. Had he avowed and discussed his position, he had some chance, some strength left. Whereas on the contrary, when he pretended that all was prosperous, he aggravated his perils by falsehood. A strange silence was observed in his presence as to the war. Throughout the country, all discussion was prohibited, and so many who would have told the truth had it been allowed, finding it forbidden, spread rumours exaggerating the calamity. The generals of the enemy failed not to magnify the report of their strength, for they sent back any spies of Vitelius whom they captured after conducting them round the camp in order that they might learn the force of the victorious army. All of these persons, Vitelius questioned in secret, and then ordered that they should be put to death. Singular bravery was displayed by a centurion, Julius Agrestis, who were after several interviews in which he had in vain endeavoured to rouse Vitelius to courage, prevailed on the emperor to send him in person to see what was the strength of the enemy's resources, and what had happened at Cremona. He did not seek to escape the notice of Antonius by making his observations in secret, but avowed the emperor's instructions at his own purpose, and asked to leave to see everything. Persons were sent to show him the field of battle, the remains of Cremona, and the captured legions. He then made his way back to Vitelius, and when the emperor denied the truth of the intelligence which he brought, and even charged him with having been bribed, since, he replied, you require some decisive proof, and I can no longer serve you in any other way either by my life or death, I will give you a proof which you can believe. So he departed, and confirmed his statement by a voluntary death. Some say that he was slain by order of Vitelius, but they bear the same testimony to his loyalty and courage. Vitelius, who seemed like a man roused from slumber, ordered Julius Priscus and Alfinius Verus, with fourteen of the Praetorian cohorts, and the entire force of cavalry to occupy the Apennines. A legion of troops drafted from the fleet followed. So many thousand troops comprising the picked men and horses of the army, had they been under the direction of a different general, would have been quite equal even to aggressive operations. The rest of the Praetorian cohorts were entrusted to Lucius Vitelius, brother of the emperor, for the defence of the capital. Vitelius, while he abated nothing of his habitual indulgence, with the precipitancy prompted by alarm, anticipated the elections, at which he appointed consuls for several years. With a profuse liberality, he granted treaties to allies and the rights of Latin citizenship to foreigners, some he relieved by the remission of tribute, others by exemptions. In a word, utterly careless of the future, he mutilated the resources of the empire. But the mob was attracted by the magnificence of his bounties. The most foolish bought these favours with money. The wise held that to be invalid, which could neither be given nor received without ruin to the state. Ylding at length to the importunity of the army, which had taken up his position at Mervania, and accompanied by a numerous train of senators, into which many were brought by ambition and more by fear, he entered the camp, undecided in purpose, and at the mercy of faithless councils. While he was haranguing his troops, marvellous to relate, such a multitude of ill-oamened birds flew over him, as to obscure with a dark cloud the light of day. There occurred another terrible presage. A bull escaped from the altar, scattered the preparations for sacrifice, and was finally slain far from the spot where the victims are usually struck down. But the most portentous spectacle of all was Vitellius himself, ignorant of military matters, and without forethought in his plans, even asking others about the order of march, about the business of reconnoitering, and the discretion to be used in pushing on or protracting the campaign, betraying in his countenance and gait his alarm at every fresh piece of intelligence, and finally drinking to intoxication. At last, weary of the camp, and having received tidings of the defection of the fleet at Mycenum, he returned to Rome, trembling at every new disaster, but reckless of the final result. For though it was open to him to have crossed the Abbenines with an army in unimpaired vigour, and to have attacked in the field and enemies suffering from cold and scat supplies, yet, by dividing his forces, he abandoned to destruction or captivity troops of the keenest courage and faithful to the last, against the judgment of the most experienced among the centurions, who, had they been consulted, would have told him the truth. They were all kept at a distance by the intimate friends of Vitellius, for the emperor's ears were so formed that all profitable councils were offensive to him, and that he would hear nothing but what would please and ruin. The fleet at Mycenum, so much can be done in times of civil discord by the daring of even a single man, was drawn into revolt by Claudius Faventinas, a centurion cashiered by Galba, who forged letters in the name of Vespasian, offering a reward for treachery. The fleet was under the command of Claudius Apollinaris, a man neither firm in his loyalty, nor energetic in his treason. Apinius Tyro, who had filled the office of Praetor, and who then happened to be at Minternai, offered to head the revolt. By these men the colonies and municipal towns were drawn into the movement, and as Putioli was particularly zealous for Vespasian, while Capuian, on the other hand, remained loyal to Vitellius, they introduced the municipal jealousy into the civil war. Claudius Julianus, who had lately exercised an indulgent rule over the fleet at Mycenum, was selected by Vitellius to soothe the irritation of the soldiery. He was supported by a city cohort and a troop of gladiators whose chief officer he was. As soon as the two camps were pitched, Julianus, without much hesitation, went over to the side of Vespasian, and they then occupied Tarikina, which was protected by his fortifications and position, rather than by any ability of theirs. Vitellius, when informed of these events, left a portion of his army at Narnia under the command of the prefect of the Praetorian Guard, and deputed his brother Lucius with six cohorts of infantry and 500 cavalry to encounter the danger that now threatened him on the side of Campania. Sick at heart, he found relief in the zeal of the soldiers and in the shouts with which the people clamoured for arms, while he gave the delusive name of an army and of Roman legions to a cowardly mob that would not venture on anything beyond words. At the instance of his freedmen, for his friends were the less faithful the more distinguished their rank, he ordered the tribes to be convoked and those who gave in their names administered the oath of service. As the numbers were excessive, he divided the business of enrolment between the consuls. He required the senators to furnish a prescribed number of slaves at a certain weight of silver. The Roman knights offered their services and money, and even the freedmen voluntarily sought the privilege of doing the same. This pretence of loyalty, dictated at first by fear, passed into enthusiasm at many express compassion, not so much for Vitellius as for the fallen condition of the imperial power. Vitellius himself fell not to draw out their sympathies by his pitible looks, his voice and his tears. He was liberal in his promises and even extravagant as men in their alarm naturally are. Even expressed a wish to be saluted as Caesar, a title which he had formally rejected. But now he had a superstitious feeling about the name, and it is a fact that in the moment of terror the councils of the wise and the voice of the rabble are listened to with equal respect. But as all movements that originate in thoughtless impulse, however vigorous in their beginnings become feeble after a time, the throng of senators and knights gradually melted away, dispersing at first tardily and during the absence of the emperor. But before long, with a contemptuous indifference to his presence, till, ashamed of the failure of his efforts, Vitellius waived his claims to services which were not offered. As the occupation of Mervania, and the apparent revival of the war with new vigour, had struck terror into Italy, so now did the Timurus retreat of Vitellius give an unequivocal bias in favour of the Flavianists. The Samnites, the Polygne, and the Marseys rose themselves jealous that having been anticipated by Campania, and as men who serve a new master were energetic in all the duties of war. The army, however, was much distressed by bad weather in its passage over the Apennines, and since they could hardly struggle through the snow, though their march was unmalested, they perceived what danger they would have had to encounter. Had not Vitellius been made to turn back by that good fortune, which, not less often than the wisdom of their councils, helped the Flavianist generals. Here they fell in with Petillius Kerialis, who had escaped the centuries of Vitellius by a rustic disguise, and by his knowledge of the country. There was a near relationship between Kerialis and Vespasian, and he was not without reputation as a soldier. He was therefore admitted to rank among the generals. It has been said by many that the means of escape were likewise open to Flavius Sabinas and to Domitian, and indeed messengers, dispatched by Antonius, contrived under various disguises to make their way to them, offering them a place of refuge and a protecting force. Sabinas pleaded his ill health, unsuited to toil and adventure. Domitian did not want the courage, but he feared that the guards whom Vitellius had set over him, though they offered to accompany him in his flight, had treacherous designs. And Vitellius himself, out of a regard for his own connections, did not meditate any cruelty against Domitian. The Flavianus generals on their arrival at Carciolai took a few days for repose, while the eagles and standards of the legions were coming up. Carciolai appeared at a good position for an encampment, for it commanded an extensive prospect, provisions could be safely brought up, and there were in its rear several very wealthy towns. They also calculated on interviews with Vitellianists, who were only ten miles distant, and on the chances of defection. The soldiers were dissatisfied with this prospect and wished for victory, rather than for peace. They would not even await the arrival of their own legions, whom they looked upon as sharers in the spoil, rather than in the dangers of the campaign. Antonius summoned them to an assembly, and explained to them that Vitellius had still forces, which would waver in their loyalty if they had time to reflect, but would be fierce foes if driven to despair. The opening of a civil war must, he said, be left to chance. The final triumph is perfected by wise councils and skill. The fleet of Mycenum and the fairest portion of Campania have already revolted, and out of the whole world Vitellius has nothing left but the country between Tarikina and Narnia. From our victory at Cremona sufficient glory has accrued to us, and from the destruction of that city only too much disgrace. Let us not be eager to capture rather than to preserve the capital. Greater will be our reward, far higher our reputation, if we secure without bloodshed the safety of the senate and of the people of Rome. By this, and similar language, their impatience was allayed. Soon after the legions arrived, alarmed by the report of this increase to the army, the Vitellianist cohorts began to waver. No one urged them to fight, many urged them to change sides, each more eager than the other to hand over his company or troop, a present to the conqueror, at a source of future advantage to himself. From these men it was ascertained that Interamna, situated in the adjoining plain, was occupied by a garrison of 400 cavalry. Verus was at once dispatched with a lightly equipped force, and cut to pieces of few who were tempted to resist. The greater number threw down their arms and begged for quarter. Some fled back into the camp and spread panic everywhere by exaggerated reports of the courage and strength of the enemy, seeking thus to mitigate the disgrace of having lost the position. Among the Vitellianists, treason went unpunished. All loyalty was subverted by the rewards of desertion, and nothing was left but emulation in perfidy. There were numerous desertions among the tribunes and centurions. The common soldiers remained obstinately faithful to Vitellius, till Priscas and Alfinius, deserting the camp and returning to Vitellius, relieved all from any shame they might feel at being traitors. About the same time, Fabius Valens was put to death while in confinement at Erbinum. His head was displayed to the Vitellianist cohort that they might not cherish any further hope, for they generally believed that Valens had made his way into Germany and was there bringing into the field veteran as well as newly levied armies. The bloody spectacle reduced them to despair, and it was amazing how the army of Vespasian welcomed in their hearts the destruction of Valens as the termination of the war. Valens was a native of Anagnia, and belonged to an equestrian family. He was a man of loose character, but of no small ability, who sought to gain by proflegacy a reputation for elegance. In the theatricals performed by young men during the reign of Nero, at first apparently from compulsion, afterwards of his own free choice, he repeatedly acted in the farces with more cleverness than propriety. While leget of a legion, he first supported, then slandered Vaginius. Fonties capital he murdered, either after he had corrupted him or because he had failed to do so. Though a traitor to Galba, he was loyal to Vitellius, and gained a lustre from the perfidy of others, finding all their hopes cut off. The troops of Vitellius, intending to pass over to the side of the conqueror, but to do so with honour, marched down with their standards and colours into the plains beneath Nania. The army of Vespasian, prepared and equipped as if for action, was drawn up in dense array on both sides of the road. The Vitellianists were received between the two columns. When they were thus surrounded, Antonius addressed them kindly. One division was ordered to remain at Nania, another at Interamna. With them were left some of the victorious legions, which would not be formidable to them if they remained quiet, but were strong enough to crush all turbulence. At the same time, Primus and Verus did not neglect to forward continual messages to Vitellius, offering him personal safety, the enjoyment of wealth and quiet retreat in Campania, provided he would lay down his arms and surrender himself and his children to Vespasian. Mocchianus also wrote to him to the same effect, and Vitellius was often disposed to trust these overtures, and even discussed the number of his household and the choice of a residence on the coast. Such a lethargy had come over his spirit. That had not others remembered he had been an emperor. He would have himself forgotten it. The leading men in the state had secret conferences with Flavius Sabinas, prefect of the city, urging him to secure a share in the credit of the victory. You have, they said, a force of your own in the city cohorts. The cohorts of the watch will not fail you, and there are also our own slaves. There is the prestige of the party. There is the fact that to the victorious everything is easy. You should not deal the glory of the war to Antonius and Verus. Vitellius has but a few cohorts, and they are alarmed by gloomy tidings from every quarter. The feelings of the people are easily swayed, and if you put yourself at their head there will soon be the same flatteries ready for Vespasian. Vitellius, even in prosperity, was unequal to his position, and he is proportionately unnerved by disaster. The merit of having finished the war will belong to him who may have possessed himself of the capital. It would well become Sabinas to keep the empire for his brother, and Vespasian equally well, to count his other adherents inferior to Sabinas. Old and infirm as he was, it was with anything but eagerness that he listened to these suggestions. Some indeed assailed him with dark insinuations, implying that from motives of envy and rivalry he was seeking to retard the elevation of his brother. It was true that while both were in a private station, Flavius Sabinas, who was the elder, was the superior of Vespasian in influence and in wealth. He was believed indeed to have sustained the failing credit of his brother while taking a mortgage of his house and lands, and hence, though the outward appearance of harmony was preserved, some secret grudge was feared. It is more charitable to suppose that the mild temper of the man shrank from bloodshed and slaughter, and that for this reason he had held frequent conferences with Vitellius to discuss the question of peace and the cessation of hostilities upon certain conditions. After many private interviews, they finally, so reports said, ratified an agreement in the Temple of Apollo. The words of their conversation had two witnesses, Incluvius Rufus and Silius Italicus. Their looks were noted by the more distant spectators. The expression of Vitellius was abject and mean. That of Sabinas, not triumphant, but rather akin to pity. Could Vitellius have swayed the feelings of his partisans as easily as he had himself yielded? The army of Vespasian might have entered the capital without bloodshed. But the more loyal his adherents, the more did they protest against peace and negotiation. They pointed out the danger and disgrace of their submission in which the caprice of the conquer would be their sole guarantee. And Vespasian, they said, is not so arrogant as to tolerate such a subject as Vitellius. Even the vanquished would not endure it. Their pity would be dangerous to him. You certainly are an old man, and have had enough both of prosperity and of adversity. But think what a name, what a position you will leave to your son Germanicus. Now indeed they promise you wealth and a large establishment and a luxurious retreating campania. But when Vespasian has once seized the throne, neither he nor his friends nor even his armies will feel themselves secure till all rivalry has been extinguished. Fabius Vaelens, captive as he was, and reserved against the chance of disaster, was yet too formidable to them. And certainly Primus, Fuscus, and Mucianus, who exhibits the temper of his party, will not be allowed power over Vitellius except to put him to death. Caesar did not leave Pompey. Augustus did not leave Antony in safety. Though perhaps Vespasian may show a more lofty spirit, Vespasian, who was a dependent of Vitellius, when Vitellius was the colleague of Claudius. If you would act as becomes the censorship, the thrice-repeated consulate of your father, and all the honors of your illustrious house, let despair at any rate arm you to courageous action. The troops are still firm, and among the people there is abundant zeal. Lastly, nothing can happen to us more terrible than that upon which we are voluntarily rushing. If we are conquered, we must die. We must die if we capitulate. All that concerns us is this. Shall we draw our last breath amidst scorn and insult or in a valiant struggle? The ears of Vitellius were deaf to manly councils. His whole soul was overwhelmed by a tender anxiety. Lest by an obstinate resistance, he might leave the conqueror less mercifully disposed to his wife and children. He had also a mother old and feeble, but she, expiring a few days before, escaped by her opportun death the ruin of her house, having gained from the imperial dignity of her son nothing but sorrow and a good name. On the 18th of December, after hearing of the defection of the legion and the auxiliary infantry which had surrendered Adnania, he left the palace, clad in mourning robes, and surrounded by his weeping household. With him went his little son, carried in a litter as though in a funeral procession. The greetings of the people were flattering, but ill-suited at the time. The soldiers preserved an ominous silence. There could hardly be a man so careless of human interests as not to be affected by this spectacle. There was the Roman Emperor. Lord but a few days before of the whole human race, leaving the seat of his power, and passing through the midst of his people and his capital, to abdicate his throne. Men had never before seen or heard of such an event. Caesar, the dictator, had fallen by sudden violence, colegular by secret treason. The shades of night and the obscurity of a rural hiding-place had veiled the flight of Nero. Piso and Galba had, it might be said, fallen in battle, in an assembly of his own people, and in the midst of his own soldiers, with the very women of his family looking on. Vitelia stood and spoke a few words suitable to the sad conjuncture. He gave way, he said, for the sake of peace, for the sake of his country. Let them only remember him, and think with compassion of his brother, of his wife, of his young and innocent children. At the same time, he held out his son, commending him first to individual by-standers, then to the whole assembly. At last, unable to speak for weeping, he unfarsened the dagger from his side, and offered it to the consul Caeculius Simplex, who was standing by him, as if to indicate that he surrendered the power of life and death over the citizens. The consul rejecting it, and those who were standing by in the assembly shouting remonstrance, he departed, as if with the intention of laying aside the emblems of imperial power in the temple of Concord, and of butaking himself to his brother's house. Louder shouts he met him from the crowd, which hindered him from entering a private house, and invited him to return to the palace. Every other route was closed, and the only one open was one which led into the Via Sacra. Then, in utter perplexity, he returned to the palace. The rumour that he had renounced the imperial dignity had preceded him thither, and Flavius Sabinas had sent written orders to the tribunes of the cohorts to keep their soldiers under restraint. End of book three, part four.