No More Learning

" Our present fashions in history will not allow us
to think, that we have much in common with those natives, whom Tacitus
describes: but fashions change, in history as in other things; and in
a wiser time we may come to know, and be proud to acknowledge, that
we have derived a part of our origin, and perhaps our fairest
accomplishments, from the Celtic Britons. The narrative of Tacitus
requires no explanation; and I will only bring to the memory of my
readers, Cowper's good poem on Boadicea. We have been dwelling upon the
glories of the Roman Empire: it may be pardonable in us, and it is not
unpleasing, to turn for a moment, I will not say to "the too vast orb"
of our fate, but rather to that Empire which is more extensive than the
Roman; and destined to be, I hope, more enduring, more united, and more
prosperous. Horace will hardly speak of the Britons, as humane beings,
and he was right; in his time, they were not a portion of the Roman
World, they had no part in the benefits of the Roman government: he
talks of them, as beyond the confines of civility, "in ultimos orbis
Britannos;" as cut off by "the estranging sea," and there jubilant in
their native practices, "Visum Britannos hospitibus feros. " But Cowper
says, no less truly, of a despised and rebel Queen;

_Regions Caesar never knew,
Thy posterity shall sway;
Where his Eagles never flew,
None invincible as they. _

The last battles of Agricola were fought in Scotland; and, in the pages
of Tacitus, he achieved a splendid victory among the Grampian hills.
Gibbon remarks, however, "The native Caledonians preserved in the
northern extremity of the island their wild independence, for which
they were not less indebted to their poverty than to their valour. Their
incursions were frequently repelled and chastised; but their country was
never subdued. The masters of the fairest and most wealthy climates of
the globe turned with contempt from gloomy hills assailed by the winter
tempest, from lakes concealed in a blue mist, and from cold and lonely
heaths, over which the deer of the forest were chased by a troop of
naked barbarians. " The Scotch themselves are never tired of asserting,
and of celebrating, their "independence"; Scotland imposed a limit to
the victories of the Roman People, Scaliger says in his compliments to
Buchanan:

_Imperii fuerat Romani Scotia lines. _

But it may be questioned, whether it were an unmixed blessing, to
be excluded from the Empire; and to offer a sullen resistance to its
inestimable gifts of humane life, of manners, and of civility.

To these things, the Germans also have manifested a strong dislike; and
they are more censurable than the Scotch, because all their knowledge of
the Romans was not derived from the intercourse of war. "The Germany"
of Tacitus is a document, that has been much discussed; and these
discussions may be numbered among the most flagrant examples of literary
intemperance: but this will not surprise us, when we allow for the
structure of mind, the language, and the usual productions of those,
to whom the treatise is naturally of the greatest importance. In the
description of the Germans, Tacitus goes out of his way to laugh at the
"licentia vetustatis," "the debauches of pedants and antiquarians;"
as though he suspected the fortunes of his volume, and the future
distinctions of the Teutonic genius. For sane readers, it will be enough
to remark, that the Germany of Tacitus was limited, upon the west, by
the natural and proper boundary of the Rhine; that it embraced a portion
of the Low Countries; and that, although he says it was confined within
the Danube, yet the separation is not clear between the true Germans and
those obscurer tribes, whose descendants furnish a long enumeration
of titles to the present melancholy sovereign of the House of Austria.
Gibbon remarks, with his usual sense, "In their primitive state of
simplicity and independence, the Germans were surveyed by the discerning
eye, and delineated by the masterly pencil of Tacitus, the first
historian who supplied the science of philosophy to the study of facts.
The expressive conciseness of his descriptions has deserved to exercise
the diligence of innumerable antiquarians, and to excite the genius and
penetration of the philosophic historians of our own time. " Upon a
few sentences out of the "Germania"; which relate to the kings, to the
holding of land, to the public assemblies, and to the army; an imposing
structure of English constitutional history has been erected: our modern
historians look upon this treatise with singular approval; because
it shows them, they say, the habits of their own forefathers in their
native settlements. They profess to be enchanted with all they read;
and, in their works, they betray their descent from the ancestors they
admire. Gibbon says, prettily, "Whenever Tacitus indulges himself in
those beautiful episodes, in which he relates some domestic transaction
of the Germans or of the Parthians, his principal object is to relieve
the attention of the reader from an uniform scene of vice and misery. "
Whether he succeeds, I must leave my readers to decide. Tacitus
describes the quarrels of the Germans; fought, then with weapons; now,
with words: their gambling, their sloth, their drunkenness. "Strong
beer, a liquor extracted with very little art from wheat or barley,
and _corrupted_ (as it is strongly expressed by Tacitus) into a certain
semblance of wine, was sufficient for the gross purposes of German
debauchery. " Tacitus informs us, too, "that they sleep far into the day;
that on rising they take a bath, usually of warm water; then they eat. "
To pass an entire day and night in drinking, disgraces no one: "Dediti
somno ciboque," he says; a people handed over to sloth and gluttony.
Some of these customs are now almost obsolete; the baths, for instance.
In others, there has been little alteration since the Age of Tacitus;
and the Germans have adhered, with obstinate fidelity, to their
primitive habits. Tacitus thought less of their capacity, upon the
whole, than it is usual to think now: "The Chatti," he says, "for
Germans, have much intelligence;" "Leur intelligence et leur finesse
étonnent, dans des Germains. " But let us forget these "Tedeschi lurchi,
non ragionam di lor;" and pass on to those manly virtues, which Tacitus
records: To abandon your shield, is the basest of crimes, "relicta non
bene parmula;" nor may a man thus disgraced be present at their sacred
rites, nor enter their council; many, indeed, after escaping from
battle, have ended their infamy with the halter. And to more shameful
crimes, they awarded a sterner punishment:

_Behind flock'd wrangling up a piteous crew
Greeted of none, disfeatured and forlorn:
Cowards, who were in sloughs interr'd alive;
And round them still the wattled hurdles hung
Wherewith they stamp'd them down, and trod them deep,
To hide their shameful memory from men. _

Having now surveyed the compositions in this volume, it is proper that
we should at length devote some of our notice to Gordon himself, and to
his manner of presenting Tacitus. Thomas Gordon was born in Scotland;
the date has not yet been ascertained. He is thought to have been
educated at a northern university, and to have become an Advocate.
Later, he went to London; and taught languages. Two pamphlets on
the Bangorian controversy brought him into notice; and he wrote
many religious and political dissertations. "A Defence of Primitive
Christianity, against the Exhorbitant Claims of Fanatical and
Dissaffected Clergymen;" "Tracts on Religion, and on the Jacobite
Rebellion of '45;" "The Pillars of Priestcraft and Orthodoxy Shaken;" "A
Cordial for Low Spirits;" are the titles of some of his compositions.
In politics, and in theology, he was a republican and free-thinker: he
translated and edited "The Spirit of Ecclesiastics in All Ages;" he
was a contributor to "The Independent Whig;" and in a series of "Cato's
Letters," he discoursed at ease upon his usual topics. The Tacitus was
published in 1728, in two volumes folio: long dissertations are inserted
in either volume; the literature in them excellent, the politics not so
good: the volumes, as well as the several parts of them, are dedicated
to some Royal and many Noble Patrons. Gordon has also turned Sallust
into English: the book was published in 1744, in one handsome quarto;
"with Political Discourses upon that Author and Translations of
Cicero's Four Orations against Cataline. " Walpole made Gordon the first
commissioner of wine licences. It is handed down, that Gordon was a
burly person, "large and corpulent. " It is believed, that he found his
way into "The Dunciad," and that he is immortalised there among the
"Canaille Écrivante;" the line

_Where Tindal dictates and Silenus snores_,

is taken to be Pope's description of him. Gordon died in 1750; at the
same time as Dr. Middleton, the elegant biographer of Cicero: Lord
Bolingbroke is said to have observed, when the news was told him, "Then
is the best writer in England gone, and the worst. " That Bolingbroke
should have disliked Gordon and his politics, does not surprise me; but
I cannot understand for what reason he, and other good judges, despised
his writings. "The chief glory of every people arises from its authors,"
Dr. Johnson says; and happy the people, I would assert, who have no
worse writers than Thomas Gordon. I wish to draw attention to Gordon's
correct vocabulary, to his bold and pregnant language, and to his
scholarly punctuation. Among our present writers, the art of punctuation
is a lost accomplishment; and it is usual now to find writings with
hardly anything but full stops; colons and semicolons are almost
obsolete; commas are neglected, or misused; and our slovenly pages are
strewn with dashes, the last resources of an untidy thinker, the certain
witnesses to a careless and unfinished sentence. How different, and
how superior, is the way of Gordon; who, though he can be homely and
familiar, never lays aside the well-bred and courteous manners of a
polished Age. In his writings, the leading clauses of a sentence are
distinguished by their colons: the minor clauses, by their semicolons;
the nice meaning of the details is expressed, the pleasure and the
convenience of his readers are alike increased, by his right and elegant
use of commas. The comma, with us, is used as a loop or bracket, and
for little else: by the more accurate scholars of the last Age, it
was employed to indicate a finer meaning; to mark an emphasis, or an
elision; to introduce a relative clause; to bring out the value of an
happy phrase, or the nice precision of an epithet. And thus the authors
of the great century of prose, that orderly and spacious time, assembled
their words, arranged their sentences, and marshalled them into careful
periods: without any loss to the subtile meaning of their thought,
or any sacrifice of vigour, they exposed their subject in a dignified
procession of stately paragraphs; and when the end is reached we look
back upon a perfect specimen of the writer's art. We have grown careless
about form, we have little sense for balance and proportion, and we
have sacrificed the good manners of literature to an ill-bred liking
for haste and noise: it has been decided, that the old way of writing
is cumbersome and slow; as well might some guerilla chieftain have
announced to his fellow-barbarians, that Caesar's legions were not swift
and beautiful in their manoeuvres, nor irresistible in their advance. I
have spoken of our long sentences, with nothing but full stops: they
are variegated, here and there, with shorter sentences, sometimes of two
words; this way of writing is common in Macaulay or in the histories of
Mr. Green, and I have seen it recommended in Primers of Literature and
Manuals of Composition. With the jolting and unconnected fragments of
these authorities, I would contrast the musical and flowing periods of
Dr. Johnson's "Lives of the Poets": to study these works in solitude,
will probably be sufficient to justify my preference; but to hear them
read aloud, should convert the most unwilling listener into an advocate
of my opinion.

Dr. Birkbeck Hill, in the delightful Preface to his Boswell, explains
how he was turned by a happy chance to the study of the literature of
the eighteenth century; and how he read on and on in the enchanting
pages of "The Spectator. " "From Addison in the course of time I passed
on," he continues, "to the other great writers of his and the succeeding
age, finding in their exquisitely clear style, their admirable
common-sense, and their freedom from all the tricks of affectation, a
delightful contrast to so many of the eminent authors of our own time. "
These words might be used of Gordon: I do not claim for him the style of
Addison, nor the accomplished negligence of Goldsmith; these are graces
beyond the reach of art; but he exhibits the common-sense, and the clear
style, of the eighteenth century. Like all the good writers of his time,
he is unaffected and "simplex munditiis"; he has the better qualities
of Pyrrha, and is "plain in his neatness. " In Mr. Ward's edition of the
English Poets, there may be read side by side a notice of Collins and of
Gray; the one by Mr. Swinburne, the other by Mr. Matthew Arnold: I
make no allusion here to the greatness of either poet, to the merits of
either style, nor to the value of either criticism. But the essay upon
Gray is quiet in tone; it has an unity of treatment, and never deserts
the principal subject; it is suffused with light, and full of the
most delicate allusions: the essay on Collins, by being written in
superlatives and vague similes, deafens and perplexes the reader; and
the author, by squandering his resources, has no power to make fine
distinctions, nor to exalt one part of his thesis above another. These
two performances illustrate the last quality in Gordon, and in the old
writers, to which I shall draw attention: they were always restrained
in their utterances, and therefore they could be discriminating in
their judgments; they could be emphatic without noise, and deep without
obscurity, ornamental but not vulgar, carefully arranged but not stiff
or artificial. They exhibit the three indispensable gifts of the
finest authorship: "simplicitas munditiis," "lucidus ordo," "curiosa
felicitas. "

In this volume, Gordon's punctuation has been generally followed: his
orthography has been modernised a little, though not by my hands,
nor with my consent; and I have observed without regret, that some of
Gordon's original spellings have eluded the vigilance of the printer:
that stern official would by no means listen to my entreaties for the
long "SS," the turn-over words, or the bounteous capitals, which add so
much to the seductive and sober dignity of an eighteenth-century page;
but, on the whole, we have given a tolerable reproduction of Gordon's
folio. In the second edition, he himself made more changes than
improvements. I will not say, that Gordon has always conveyed the exact
meaning of the sentences of Tacitus: but he has done what is better,
and more difficult; he has grasped the broad meaning of his author, and
caught something of his lofty spirit. "A translation," he says, "ought
to read like an original;" and Gordon has not failed, I think, to reach
this perfection. It is not commonly attained among translators: Gordon
says, of one rendering of Tacitus, "'Tis not the fire of Tacitus, but
his embers; quenched with English words, cold and Gothick. " Of
the author of another version, he says "Learning is his chief
accomplishment, and thence his translation is a very poor one. " This
judgment is true of most modern translations from the Ancients; they
may be correct versions, but are miserable English: the authors, while
studying the most perfect models of the art of writing, have produced
copies which are not literature at all. From this low company, I would
rescue Sir Charles Bowen's "Virgil": a delightful poem, to those who are
ignorant of Latin; an exquisite production, and an amazing triumph,
to those who converse with the original. There are many English
translations of Tacitus: the first, by Sir Henry Savile and "one
Greenway"; the former, says Gordon, "has performed like a schoolmaster,
the latter like a school-boy. " Anthony à Wood writes in another strain,
in the "Athenae Oxonienis": "A rare Translation it is, and the Work of
a very Great Master indeed, both in our Tongue and that Story. For if
we consider the difficulty of the Original, and the Age wherein the
Translation lived, it is both for the exactness of the version, and
the chastity of the Language, one of the most accurate and perfect
translations that ever were made into English. " There is a rendering
by Murphy, diffuse and poor; a dilution of Gordon, worthy neither of
Tacitus nor of the English tongue. There are translations, too, into
almost every modern language: I would give the highest praise to
Davanzati; a scholar of Tuscany, who lived in the sixteenth century.
In French, I cannot but admire the labours of M. Burnouf: although the
austere rules, the precise constructions, and the easy comportment of
the French prose are not suited to the style of Tacitus, and something
of his weight and brevity are lost; yet the translator never loses the
depth and subtilty of his author's meaning; his work is agreeable to
read, and very useful to consult. The maps and the genealogical tables
in the three volumes of Messrs. Church and Brodribb's translation are
also of the greatest service, and the notes are sometimes most amusing.

Of Tacitus himself, there is little for me to say: those, who know him,
can judge for themselves; to those who do not, no words are able to
convey an adequate impression. "Who is able to infuse into me," Cardinal
Newman asks, "or how shall I imbibe, a sense of the peculiarities of
the style of Cicero or Virgil, if I have not read their writings? No
description, however complete, could convey to my mind an exact likeness
of a tune, or an harmony, which I have never heard; and still less of a
scent, which I have never smelled: and if I said that Mozart's melodies
were as a summer sky, or as the breath of Zephyr, I shall be better
understood by those who knew Mozart, than by those who did not. " These
truths are little remembered by modern critics: though, indeed, it is
not possible to convey to a reader adequate notions about the style
of an author, whom that reader has not pondered for himself; about
his thoughts or his subjects, it may be different. Still, I may write
something about the manner of Tacitus, which will not violate Cardinal
Newman's laws, nor be an outrage to taste and common-sense. "It is the
great excellence of a writer," says Dr. Johnson, "to put into his book
as much as it will hold:" and if this judgment be sound, then is Tacitus
the greatest of all writers in prose. Gordon says of him, "He explains
events with a redundancy of images, and a frugality of words: his
images are many, but close and thick; his words are few, but pointed and
glowing; and even his silence is instructive and affecting. Whatever he
says, you see; and all, that you see, affects you. Let his words be ever
so few, his thought and matter are always abundant. His imagination is
boundless, yet never outruns his judgment; his wisdom is solid and vast,
yet always enlivened by his imagination. He starts the idea, and lets
the imagination pursue it; the sample he gives you is so fine, that you
are presently curious to see the whole piece, and then you have your
share in the merit of the discovery; a compliment, which some able
writers have forgot to pay to their readers. " I would remark here, that
many of the old writers give me the sense of handling things, they are
definite and solid; while some of the moderns appear to play with words
only, and never to come up with the objects of their pursuit: "we are
too often ravished with a sonorous sentence," as Dr. Johnson says, "of
which, when the noise is past, the meaning does not long remain. " But
of Tacitus, Gordon says, "His words and phrases are admirably adapted
to his matter and conceptions, and make impressions sudden and wonderful
upon the mind of man. Stile is a part of genius, and Tacitus had one
peculiar to himself; a sort of language of his own, one fit to express
the amazing vigour of his spirit, and that redundancy of reflections
which for force and frequency are to be equalled by no writer before nor
since. "

Dr. Johnson, however, says in another place, "Tacitus, Sir, seems to me
rather to have made notes for an historical work, than to have written
a history:" I must own, that upon the subject of Tacitus, I prefer the
sentiments of Gordon; and Montaigne would agree with me, for he says, "I
do not know any author, who, in a work of history, has taken so broad
a view of human events, or given a more just analysis of particular
characters. " The impressions of Tacitus are indeed wonderful: I doubt,
whether volumes could bring us nearer to the mutinous legions, than the
few chapters in which he records their history. I am always delighted
by Gordon's way of telling the battle, in which the iron men of Sacrovir
were overthrown; the account begins on page 139. Then how satisfying is
the narrative of the wars in Germany, of the shipwreck, of the funeral
of Varus and the slaughtered legions; how pleasing the description of
Germanicus' antiquarian travels in Egypt, and in Greece. Though Tacitus
is not a maker of "descriptions," in our modern sense: there is but one
"description" in "The Annals," so far as I remember, it is of Capri; and
it is not the sort, that would be quoted by a reviewer, as a "beautiful
cameo of description. " With Tacitus, a field of battle is not an
occasion for "word-painting," as we call it; the battle is always first,
the scenery of less importance. He tells, what it is necessary to know;
but he is too wise to think, that we can realise from words, a place
which we have never seen; and too sound in his taste, to forget the
wholesome boundaries between poetry and prose. This is the way of all
the ancient writers. In a work on "Landscape," I remember that Mr.
Hamerton mourns over the Commentaries of Caesar; because they do not
resemble the letters of a modern war-correspondent; Ascham, on the other
hand, a man of real taste and learning, says of the Commentaries, "All
things be most perfectly done by him; in Caesar only, could never yet
fault be found. " I agree with Ascham: I think I prefer the Commentaries
as they are, chaste and quiet; I really prefer them to Mr. Kinglake's
"Crimean War," or to Mr. Forbes' Despatches, or even to the most
effusive pages of Mr. Stanley's book on Africa.

In "The Life of Agricola," I would mention the simplicity of the
treatment and the excellence of the taste. Tacitus does not recite the
whole of Roman history, nor assemble all the worthies out of Plutarch.
Agricola is not compared to the pyramids, to the Flavian circus, nor to
any works of art and literature: these flights of imagination were
not known to the Ancients; but in a learned modern, I have seen Dante
compared to Wagner's operas, to the Parthenon and St. Peter's, and to
Justinian's code. The sanctities of private life are not violated; yet
we know everything, that it is decent to know, about Agricola. Lord
Coleridge has given a beautiful rendering of the closing passages of
"The Agricola," in his account of Mr. Matthew Arnold: these elegant
papers are not only models of good English; but are conspicuous,
among recent obituary notices, for their fine taste and their becoming
reticence. From the excesses of modern biographers, Tacitus was in
little danger; thanks to his Roman sense, and to the qualities of the
Roman Language. "Economy," says Mr. Symonds, "is exhibited in every
element of this athletic tongue. Like a naked gladiator all bone and
muscle, it relies upon bare sinewy strength. " That author speaks of "the
austere and masculine virtues of Latin, the sincerity and brevity of
Roman speech;" and Tacitus is, beyond any doubt, the strongest, the
austerest, the most pregnant of all the Romans. "Sanity," says Mr.
Matthew Arnold, in conclusion, "that is the great virtue of the ancient
literature; the want of that is the great defect of the modern, in
spite of all its variety and power. " "It is impossible to read the great
ancients, without losing something of our caprice and eccentricity. I
know not how it is, but their commerce with the ancients appears to
me to produce, in those who constantly practise it, a steadying and
composing effect upon the judgment, not of literary works only, but of
men and events in general. They are like persons who have had a very
weighty and impressive experience; they are more truly than others under
the empire of facts, and more independent of the language current among
those with whom they live. "

It has been told of Cardinal Newman, that he never liked to pass
a single day, without rendering an English sentence into Latin. To
converse with the Roman authors, to handle their precise and sparing
language, is, I can well believe it, a most wholesome discipline;
and the most efficient remedy against those faults of diffuseness, of
obscurity, and of excess, which are only too common among the writers
of our day. It may have been to this practice, that Cardinal Newman owed
something of his clearness, and of his exquisite simplicity: and for
his style, he should be idolised by every one who has a taste for
literature. I have said many things in praise of the ancient authors: it
pleases me, as I finish, to offer my humble tribute to an author who is
quite our own; to one, who in all his writings has bequeathed us perfect
models of chaste, of lucid, and of melodious prose.

NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD: _September_ 15, 1890.




THE FIRST SIX BOOKS OF THE ANNALS OF TACITUS:

BEING AN HISTORY OF THE EMPEROR TIBERIUS




THE ANNALS OF TACITUS




BOOK I

A. D. 14 AND 15.


Kings were the original Magistrates of Rome: Lucius Brutus founded
Liberty and the Consulship: Dictators were chosen occasionally, and used
only in pressing exigencies. Little more than two years prevailed the
supreme power of the Decemvirate, and the consular jurisdiction of the
military Tribunes not very many. The domination of Cinna was but short,
that of Sylla not long. The authority of Pompey and Crassus was quickly
swallowed up in Caesar; that of Lepidus and Anthony in Augustus. The
Commonwealth, then long distressed and exhausted by the rage of her
civil dissensions, fell easily into his hands, and over her he assumed
a sovereign dominion; yet softened with a venerable name, that of Prince
or Chief of the Senate. But the several revolutions in the ancient
free state of Rome, and all her happy or disastrous events, are already
recorded by writers of signal renown. Nor even in the reign of Augustus
were there wanting authors of distinction and genius to have composed
his story; till by the prevailing spirit of fear, flattery, and
abasement they were checked. As to the succeeding Princes, Tiberius,
Caligula, Claudius, and Nero; the dread of their tyranny, whilst they
yet reigned, falsified their history; and after their fall, the fresh
detestation of their cruelties inflamed their Historians. Hence my own
design of recounting briefly certain incidents in the reign of Augustus,
chiefly towards his latter end, and of entering afterwards more fully
into that of Tiberius and the other three; unbiassed as I am in this
undertaking by any resentment, or any affection; all the influences of
these personal passions being far from me.

When, after the fall of Brutus and Cassius, there remained none to fight
for the Commonwealth, and her arms were no longer in her own hands; when
Sextus Pompeius was utterly defeated in Sicily, Lepidus bereft of
his command. Marc Anthony slain; and of all the chiefs of the late
Dictator's party, only Octavius his nephew was left; he put off the
invidious name of Triumvir, and styling himself Consul, pretended that
the jurisdiction attached to the Tribuneship was his highest aim, as in
it the protection of the populace was his only view: but when once he
had laid his foundations wider, secured the soldiery by liberality and
donations, gained the people by store of provisions, and charmed all
by the blessings and sweetness of public peace, he began by politic
gradations to exalt himself, to extend his domination, and with his own
power to consolidate the authority of the Senate, jurisdiction of the
Magistrate, and weight and force of the Laws; usurpations in which he
was thwarted by no man: all the bravest Republicans and his most
daring foes were slain in battle, or gleaned up by the late sanguinary
proscriptions; and for the surviving Nobility, they were covered with
wealth, and distinguished with public honours, according to the measure
of their debasement, and promptness to bondage. Add, that all the
creatures of this new Power, who in the loss of public freedom had
gained private fortunes, preferred a servile condition, safe and
possessed, to the revival of ancient liberty with personal peril.
Neither were the Provinces averse to the present Revolution, and
Sovereignty of one; since under that of the people and Senate they had
lived in constant fear and mistrust, sorely rent and harassed as they
were by the raging competition amongst our Grandees, as well as by the
grievous rapine and exactions of our Magistrates; in vain too, under
these their oppressions, had been their appeal to the protection of the
laws, which were utterly enfeebled and borne down by might and violence,
by faction and parties; nay, even by subornation and money.

Moreover, Augustus, in order to fortify his domination with collateral
bulwarks, raised his sister's son Claudius Marcellus, a perfect youth,
to the dignity of Pontiff and that of Aedile; preferred Marcus Agrippa
to two successive Consulships, a man in truth meanly born but an
accomplished soldier, and the companion of his victories; and Marcellus,
the husband of Julia, soon after dying, chose him for his son-in-law.
Even the sons of his wife, Tiberius Nero, and Claudius Drusus, he
dignified with high military titles and commands; though his house
was yet supported by descendants of his own blood. For into the Julian
family and name of the Caesars he had already adopted Lucius and Caius,
the sons of Agrippa; and though they were but children, neither of them
seventeen years old, vehement had been his ambition to see them declared
Princes of the Roman Youth and even designed to the Consulship; while
openly, he was protesting against admitting these early honours.
Presently, upon the decease of Agrippa, were these his children snatched
away, either by their own natural but hasty fate, or by the deadly fraud
of their step-mother Livia; Lucius on his journey to command the armies
in Spain; Caius in his return from Armenia, ill of a wound: and as
Drusus, one of her own sons, had been long since dead, Tiberius remained
sole candidate for the succession. Upon this object, centred all
princely honours; he was by Augustus adopted for his son, assumed
Colleague in the Empire, partner in the jurisdiction tribunitial, and
presented under all these dignities to the several armies: instances
of grandeur which were no longer derived from the secret schemes
and plottings of his mother, as in times past, while her husband had
unexceptionable heirs of his own, but thenceforth bestowed at her open
suit. For as Augustus was now very aged, she had over him obtained
such absolute sway, that for her pleasure he banished into the Isle of
Planasia his only surviving grandson, Agrippa Postumus; one, in truth,
destitute of laudable accomplishments, in his temper untractable,
and stupidly conceited of his mighty strength, but branded with no
misdemeanour or transgression. The Emperor had withal set Germanicus,
the son of Drusus, over eight legions quartered upon the Rhine, and
obliged Tiberius to adopt him, though Tiberius had then a son of his
own, one of competent years; but it was the study of Augustus, to secure
himself and the succession by variety of stays and engraftments. War at
that time there was none, except that in Germany, kept on foot rather
to abolish the disgrace sustained by Quinctilius Varus, there slain with
his army, than from any ambition to enlarge the Empire, or for any other
valuable advantage. In profound tranquillity were affairs at Rome. To
the Magistrates remained their wonted names; of the Romans the younger
sort had been born since the battle of Actium, and even most of the old
during the civil wars: how few were then living who had seen the ancient
free State!

The frame and economy of Rome being thus totally overturned, amongst
the Romans were no longer found any traces of their primitive spirit,
or attachment to the virtuous institutions of antiquity. But as the
equality of the whole was extinguished by the sovereignty of one, all
men regarded the orders of the Prince as the only rule of conduct and
obedience; nor felt they any anxiety, while Augustus yet retained vigour
of life, and upheld the credit of his administration with public peace,
and the imperial fortune of his house. But when he became broken with
the pressure of age and infirmities; when his end was at hand, and
thence a new source of hopes and views was presented, some few there
were who began to reason idly about the blessings and recovery of
Liberty; many dreaded a civil war, others longed for one; while far the
greater part were uttering their several apprehensions of their future
masters; "that naturally stern and savage was the temper of Agrippa,
and by his public contumely enraged into fury; and neither in age nor
experience was he equal to the weight of Empire. Tiberius indeed had
arrived at fulness of years, and was a distinguished captain, but
possessed the inveterate pride entailed upon the Claudian race; and many
indications of a cruel nature escaped him, in spite of all his arts to
disguise it; besides that from his early infancy he was trained up in a
reigning house, and even in his youth inured to an accumulation of power
and honours, consulships and triumphs: nor during the several years of
his abode at Rhodes, where, under the plausible name of retirement, a
real banishment was covered, did he exercise other occupation than that
of meditating future vengeance, studying the arts of treachery, and
practising secret, abominable sensualities: add to these considerations,
that of his mother, a woman inspired with all the tyranny of her
sex; yes, the Romans must be under bondage to a woman, and moreover
enthralled by two youths, who would first combine to oppress the State,
and then falling into dissension, rend it piecemeal. "

While the public was engaged in these and the like debates, the illness
of Augustus waxed daily more grievous; and some strongly suspected the
pestilent practices of his wife. For there had been, some months before,
a rumour abroad, that Augustus having singled out a few of his most
faithful servants, and taken Fabius Maximus for his only companion, had,
with no other retinue, sailed secretly over to the Island of Planasia,
there to visit his Grandson Agrippa; that many tears were shed on both
sides, many tokens of mutual tenderness shown, and hopes from thence
conceived, that the unhappy youth would be restored to his own place in
his Grandfather's family. That Maximus had disclosed it to Martia, she
to Livia; and thence the Emperor knew that the secret was betrayed: that
Maximus being soon after dead (dead, as it was doubted, through fear, by
his own hands), Martia was observed, in her lamentations and groans
at his funeral, to accuse herself as the sad cause of her husband's
destruction. Whatever truth was in all this, Tiberius was scarce entered
Illyrium, but he was hastily recalled by his mother's letters: nor is
it fully known whether at his return to Nola, he found Augustus yet
breathing, or already breathless. For Livia had carefully beset the
palace, and all the avenues to it, with detachments of the guards; and
good news of his recovery were from time to time given out. When she had
taken all measures necessary in so great a conjuncture, in one and the
same moment was published the departure of Augustus, and the accession
of Tiberius.

The first feat of this new reign was the murder of young Agrippa: the
assassin, a bold and determined Centurion, found him destitute of arms,
and little apprehending such a destiny, yet was scarce able to despatch
him. Of this transaction Tiberius avoided any mention in the Senate: he
would have it pass for done by the commands of Augustus; as if he had
transmitted written orders to the Tribune, who guarded Agrippa, "to slay
him the instant he heard of his grandfather's decease. " It is very true
that Augustus had made many and vehement complaints of the young man's
obstinate and unruly demeanour, and even solicited from the Senate
a decree to authorise his banishment: but he never hardened himself
against the sentiments of nature, nor in any instance dipped his hands
in his own blood; neither is it credible that he would barbarously
sacrifice the life of his grandson for the security and establishment of
his step-son. More probable it is, that this hasty murder was purely the
work of Tiberius and Livia; that the young Prince, hated and dreaded
by both, fell thus untimely, to rid the one of his apprehensions and
a rival, and to satiate in the other the rancorous spirit of a
step-mother. When the Centurion, according to the custom of the army,
acquainted Tiberius, "that his commands were executed;" he answered, "he
had commanded no such execution, and the Centurion must appear before
the Senate, and for it be answerable to them. " This alarmed Sallustius
Crispus, who shared in all his secret counsels, and had sent the
Centurion the warrant: he dreaded that he should be arraigned for the
assassination, and knew it equally perilous either to confess the truth,
and charge the Emperor; or falsely to clear the Emperor, and accuse
himself. Hence he had recourse to Livia, and warned her, "never to
divulge the secrets of the palace, never to expose to public examination
the ministers who advised, nor the soldiers who executed: Tiberius
should beware of relaxing the authority of the Prince, by referring all
things to that of the Senate; since it was the indispensable prerogative
of sovereignty for all men to be accountable only to one. "

Now at Rome, Consuls, Senators, and Roman Knights, were all rushing
with emulation into bondage, and the higher the quality of each the more
false and forward the men; all careful so to frame their faces, as to
reconcile false joy for the accession of Tiberius, with feigned sadness
for the loss of Augustus: hence they intermingled fears with gladness,
wailings with gratulations, and all with servile flattery. Sextus
Pompeius and Sextus Apuleius, at that time Consuls, took first the oath
of fidelity to Tiberius; then administered it to Seius Strabo and
Caius Turranius; the former Captain of the Praetorian Guards, the other
Intendant of the Public Stores. The oath was next given to the Senate,
to the people, and to the soldiery: all by the same Consuls; for
Tiberius affected to derive all public transactions from the legal
ministry of the Consuls, as if the ancient Republic still subsisted, and
he were yet unresolved about embracing the sovereign rule: he even owned
in his edict for summoning the Senate, that he issued it by virtue of
the Tribunitial power, granted him under Augustus. The edict, too,
was short and unexceptionably modest. It imported that, "they were to
consider of the funeral honours proper to be paid his deceased Father:
for himself he would not depart from the corpse; and further than this
edict implied, he claimed no share in the public administration. " Yet
from the moment Augustus was dead, he usurped all the prerogatives of
imperial state, gave the word to the Praetorian Cohorts; had soldiers
about the palace, guards about his person, went guarded in the street,
guarded to the Senate, and bore all the marks of Majesty: nay, he writ
letters to the several armies in the undisguised style of one already
their Prince: nor did he ever hesitate in expression, or speak with
perplexity, but when he spoke to the Senate. The chief cause of his
obscurity there proceeded from his fear of Germanicus: he dreaded that
he, who was master of so many legions, of numberless auxiliaries, and
of all the allies of Rome; he, who was the darling of the people, might
wish rather to possess the Empire, than to wait for it; he likewise, in
this mysterious way of dealing with the Senate, sought false glory, and
would rather seem by the Commonwealth chosen and called to the Empire,
than to have crept darkly into it by the intrigues of a woman, or by
adoption from a superannuated Prince. It was also afterwards found, that
by this abstruseness and counterfeit irresolution he meant to penetrate
into the designs and inclinations of the great men: for his jealous
spirit construed all their words, all their looks, into crimes; and
stored them up in his heart against a day of vengeance.

When he first met the Senate, he would bear no other business to be
transacted but that about the funeral of Augustus. His last will
was brought in by the Vestal Virgins: in it Tiberius and Livia were
appointed his heirs, Livia adopted into the Julian family, and dignified
with the name of Augusta: into the next and second degree of heirship he
adopted his grandchildren and their children; and in the third degree
he named the great men of Rome, most of them hated by him, but out of
vainglory he named them, and for future renown. His legacies were not
beyond the usual bounds; only he left to the Roman people four hundred
thousand great sesterces, [Footnote: £362,500. ] to the populace or
common sort, thirty-five thousand; to every common soldier of the
Praetorian Guards, a thousand small sesterces, [Footnote: £8, 6s. 8d. ]
and to every soldier of the Roman legions three hundred. [Footnote: £2,
10s. ] The funeral honours were next considered. The chief proposed were
these: Asinius Gallus moved that "the funeral should pass through the
Triumphal Gate:" Lucius Arruntius, "that the titles of all the laws
which he had made, and the names of all the nations which he had
conquered, should be carried before the corpse:" Valerius Messala added,
that "the oath of allegiance to Tiberius should be renewed every year;"
and being asked by Tiberius, "whether at his instigation he had made
that motion?
" "I spoke it as my opinion," says Messala; "nor will I ever
be determined by any but my own, in things which concern the commonweal;
let who will be provoked by my freedom. " Only this new turn was wanting
to complete the prevailing flattery of the time. The Senators then
concurred in a loud cry, "that upon their own shoulders they must bear
the body to the pile. " But Tiberius declined the offer from an arrogant
show of moderation. Moreover, he cautioned the people by an edict, "not
to disturb the funeral functions with a zeal over-passionate, as they
had those of Julius Caesar; nor to insist that the corpse of Augustus
should be burnt rather in the Forum, than in the field of Mars, which
was the place appointed. " On the funeral day the soldiers under arms
kept guard; a mighty mockery this to those who had either seen, or heard
their fathers describe, the day when Caesar the Dictator was slain:
servitude was then new, its sorrows yet fresh and bitter; and liberty
unsuccessfully retrieved by a deed which, while it seemed impious to
some, was thought altogether glorious by others, and hence tore Rome
into tumults and the violence of parties: they who knew that turbulent
day, and compared it with the quiet exit of Augustus, ridiculed the
foppery of "calling an aid of soldiers to secure a peaceable burial to a
Prince who had grown old in peace and power, and even provided against a
relapse into liberty, by a long train of successors. "

Hence much and various matter of observation concerning Augustus: the
superstitious multitude admired the fortuitous events of his fortune;
"that the last day of his life, and the first of his reign, was the
same; that he died at Nola, in the same village, and in the same house,
and in the same chamber, where his father Octavius died. They observed
to his glory, his many Consulships, equal in number to those of Valerius
Corvinus and of Caius Marius, joined together; that he had exercised the
power of the Tribuneship seven-and-thirty continued years: that he was
one-and-twenty times proclaimed Imperator; with many other numerous
honours repeated to him, or created for him. " Men of deeper discernment
entered further into his life, but differed about it. His admirers said,
"that his filial piety to his father Caesar, and the distractions of the
Republic, where the laws no longer governed, had driven him into a civil
war; which, whatever be the first cause, can never be begun or carried,
on by just and gentle means. " Indeed, to be revenged on the murderers of
his father, he had made many great sacrifices to the violent genius
of Anthony; many to Lepidus: but when Lepidus was become sunk and
superannuated in sloth; when Anthony was lost headlong in sensuality,
there was then no other remedy for the distracted State, rent piecemeal
by its Chiefs, but the sovereignty of one: Augustus, however, never
had assumed to be over his country King, or Dictator; but settled the
government under the legal name of Prince, or Chief of the Senate: he
had extended the Empire, and set for its bounds the distant ocean
and rivers far remote; the several parts and forces of the State, the
legions, the provinces, and the navy, were all properly balanced and
connected; the citizens lived dutifully under the protection of the
law, the Allies in terms of respect, and Rome itself was adorned with
magnificent structures: indeed, in a few instances he had exerted the
arbitrary violence of power; and in but a few, only to secure the peace
of the whole.

In answer to all this, it was urged, that "his filial piety, and the
unhappy situation of the Republic, were pure pretences; but the ardent
lust of reigning, his true and only motive: with this spirit he had
solicited into his service, by bribery, a body of veteran soldiers: and
though a private youth, without post or magistracy, but, in defiance of
law, levied an army: with this spirit he had debauched and bought
the Roman legions under the Consuls, while he was falsely feigning a
coalition with Pompey's republican party: that soon after, when he had
procured from the Senate, or rather usurped the honours and authority
of the Praetorship; and when Hirtius and Pansa, the two Consuls, were
slain, he seized both their armies: that it was doubted whether the
Consuls fell by the enemy, or whether Pansa was not killed by pouring
poison into his wounds; and Hirtius slain by his own soldiers; and
whether the young Caesar was not the black contriver of this bloody
treason: that by terror he had extorted the Consulship in spite of the
Senate; and turned against the Commonwealth the very arms with which the
Commonwealth had trusted him for her defence against Anthony. Add to all
this his cruel proscriptions, and the massacre of so many citizens, his
seizing from the public and distributing to his own creatures so many
lands and possessions; a violation of property not justified even by
those who gained by it. But, allowing him to dedicate to the Manes of
the Dictator the lives of Brutus and Cassius (though more to his honour
had it been to have postponed his own personal hate to public good), did
he not betray the young Pompey by an insidious peace, betray Lepidus by
a deceitful show of friendship? Did he not next ensnare Marc Anthony,
first by treaties, those of Tarentum and Brundusium; then by a marriage,
that of his sister Octavia? And did not Anthony at last pay with his
life the penalty of that subdolous alliance? After this, no doubt there
was peace, but a bloody peace; bloody in the tragical defeat of Lollius,
and that of Varus, in Germany; and at Rome, the Varrones, the Egnatii,
the Julii (those illustrious names) were put to death. " Nor was his
domestic life spared upon this occasion. "He had arbitrarily robbed
Nero of his wife big with child by her husband; and mocked the Gods
by consulting the Priests; whether religion permitted him to marry her
before her delivery, or obliged him to stay till after. His minions,
Tedius and Vedius Pollio, had lived in scandalous and excessive luxury:
his wife Livia, who wholly controlled him, had proved a cruel governess
to the Commonwealth; and to the Julian house, a more cruel step-mother:
he had even invaded the incommunicable honours of the Gods, and setting
up for himself temples like theirs, would like them be adored in
the image of a Deity, with all the sacred solemnity of Priests and
sacrifices: nor had he adopted Tiberius for his successor, either out
of affection for him, or from concern for the public welfare; but having
discovered in him a spirit proud and cruel, he sought future glory from
the blackest opposition and comparison. " For, Augustus, when, a few
years before, he solicited the Senate to grant to Tiberius another
term of the authority of the Tribuneship, though he mentioned him with
honour, yet taking notice of his odd humour, behaviour, and manners,
dropped some expressions, which, while they seemed to excuse him,
exposed and upbraided him.

As soon as the funeral of Augustus was over, a temple and divine
worship were forthwith decreed him. The Senate then turned their instant
supplications to Tiberius, to fill his vacant place; but received
an abstruse answer, touching the greatness of the Empire and his own
distrust of himself; he said that "nothing but the divine genius of
Augustus was equal to the mighty task: that for himself, who had been
called by him into a participation of his cares, he had learnt
by feeling them, what a daring, what a difficult toil was that of
government, and how perpetually subject to the caprices of fortune: that
in a State supported by so many illustrious patriots they ought not to
cast the whole administration upon one; and more easy to be administered
were the several offices of the Government by the united pains and
sufficiency of many. " A pompous and plausible speech, but in it little
faith and sincerity. Tiberius, even upon subjects which needed no
disguises, used words dark and cautious; perhaps from his diffident
nature, perhaps from a habit of dissembling: at this juncture indeed,
as he laboured wholly to hide his heart, his language was the more
carefully wrapped up in equivoques and obscurity: but the Senators, who
dreaded nothing so much as to seem to understand him, burst into tears,
plaints, and vows; with extended arms they supplicated the Gods, invoked
the image of Augustus, and embraced the knees of Tiberius. He then
commanded the imperial register to be produced and recited. It contained
a summary of the strength and income of the Empire, the number of
Romans and auxiliaries in pay, the condition of the navy, of the
several kingdoms paying tribute, and of the various provinces and
their revenues, with the state of the public expense, the issues of the
exchequer, and all the demands upon the public. This register was all
writ by the hand of Augustus; and in it he had subjoined his counsel to
posterity, that the present boundaries of the Empire should stand fixed
without further enlargement; but whether this counsel was dictated by
fear for the public, or by envy towards his successors, is uncertain.

Now when the Senate was stooping to the vilest importunity and
prostrations, Tiberius happened to say, that, "as he was unequal to
the weight of the whole government; so if they entrusted him with any
particular part, whatever it were, he would undertake it. " Here Asinius
Gallus interposed: "I beg to know, Caesar," says he, "what part of
the government you desire for your share? " He was astonished with
the unexpected question, and, for a short space, mute; but recovering
himself, answered, that "it ill became his modesty to choose or reject
any particular branch of the administration, when he desired rather to
be excused from the whole. " Gallus, who in his face conjectured sullen
signs of displeasure, again accosted him, and said, "by this question I
did not mean that you should do an impracticable thing, and share
that power which cannot be separated; but I meant to reason you into a
confession that the Commonwealth is but one body, and can be governed
only by one soul. " He added an encomium upon Augustus, and reminded
Tiberius himself of his many victories, of the many civil employments
which he had long and nobly sustained: nor even thus could he mollify
the wrath of Tiberius, who had long hated him, for that Gallus had
married Vipsania, daughter of Marcus Agrippa, and formerly wife to
Tiberius, who thence suspected that by this match he meant to soar above
the rank of a subject, and possessed too the bold and haughty spirit of
Asinius Pollio his father.

Lucius Arruntius incurred his displeasure next, by a speech not much
unlike that of Gallus: it is true, that towards him Tiberius bore no
old rancour; but Arruntius had mighty opulence, prompt parts, noble
accomplishments, with equal popularity, and hence was marked by him with
a fell eye of suspicion. For, as Augustus, shortly before his decease,
was mentioning those among the great men, who were capable of the
supreme power, but would not accept it; or unequal to it, yet wished
for it; or such, as had both ambition and sufficiency; he had said, that
"Marcus Lepidus was qualified, but would reject it; Asinius would be
aspiring, but had inferior talents; and that Lucius Arruntius wanted no
sufficiency, and upon a proper occasion would attempt it. " That he spoke
thus of Lepidus and Asinius, is agreed; but, instead of Arruntius, some
writers have transmitted the name of Cneius Piso: and every one of these
great men, except Lepidus, were afterwards cut off, under the imputation
of various crimes, all darkly framed by Tiberius. Quintus Haterius and
Mamercus Scaurus did thereafter incense his distrustful spirit;
the first by asking him, "How long, Caesar, wilt thou suffer the
Commonwealth to remain destitute of a head? " Scaurus, because he had
said "there was room to hope that the prayers of the Senate would
not prove abortive, since he had not opposed as Tribune, nor rendered
invalid, as he might, the motion of the Consuls in his behalf. " With
Haterius he fell into instant rage; towards Scaurus his resentment was
more deep and implacable, and in profound silence he hid it. Wearied
at last with public importunity and clamour, and with particular
expostulations, he began to unbend a little; not that he would own his
undertaking the Empire, but only avoid the uneasiness of perpetually
rejecting endless solicitations. It is known how Haterius, when he went
next day to the palace to implore pardon, and throwing himself at the
feet of Tiberius embraced his knees, narrowly escaped being slain by the
soldiers; because Tiberius, who was walking, tumbled down, whether by
chance, or whether his legs were entangled in the arms of Haterius:
neither was he a jot mollified by the danger which threatened so great a
man, who was at length forced to supplicate Augusta for protection; nor
could even she obtain it, but after the most laboured entreaties.

Towards Livia, too, exorbitant was the flattering court of the Senate.
Some were for decreeing her the general title of Mother; others the more
particular one of Mother Of Her Country; and almost all moved, that to
the name of Tiberius should be added, The Son Of Julia: Tiberius urged
in answer, that "public honours to women ought to be warily adjudged,
and with a sparing hand; and that with the same measure of moderation he
would receive such as were presented to himself. " In truth, full of envy
as he was, and anxious lest his own grandeur should sink as that of his
mother rose, he would not suffer so much as a Lictor to be decreed her,
and even forbade the raising her an altar upon her late adoption,
or paying her any such solemnities. But for Germanicus he asked the
Proconsular power; and to carry him that dignity, honourable deputies
were sent, as also to mollify his sorrow for the death of Augustus. If
for Drusus he demanded not the same honour, it was because Drusus was
present and already Consul designed. He then named twelve candidates
for the Praetorship; the same number settled by Augustus; and though the
Senate requested him to increase it, by an oath he bound himself never
to exceed.

The privilege of creating Magistrates was now first translated from
the assemblies of the people to the Senate; for though the Emperor had
before conducted all affairs of moment at his pleasure; yet till that
day some were still transacted by the Tribes, and carried by their bent
and suffrages. Neither did the regret of the people for the seizure of
these their ancient rights rise higher than some impotent grumbling. The
Senate too liked the change; as by it they were released from the charge
of buying votes, and from the shame of begging them: and so moderate was
Tiberius, that of the twelve candidates he only reserved to himself the
recommendation of four, to be accepted without opposition or caballing.
At the same time, the Tribunes of the people asked leave to celebrate at
their own expense certain plays in honour of Augustus, such as were
to be called after his name, and inserted in the calendar. But it was
decreed, that out of the Exchequer the charge should be defrayed, and
the Tribunes should in the circus wear the triumphal robe; but to be
carried in chariots was denied them. The annual celebration of these
plays was, for the future, transferred to one of the Praetors, him
in particular to whom should fall the jurisdiction of deciding suits
between citizens and strangers.

Thus stood affairs at Rome when a sedition seized the legions in
Pannonia; without any fresh grounds, save that from a change of Princes,
they meant to assume a warrant for licentiousness and tumult, and from a
civil war hoped great earnings and acquisitions: they were three legions
encamped together, all commanded by Junius Blesus, who, upon notice of
the death of Augustus and the accession of Tiberius, had granted the
soldiers a recess from their wonted duties for some days, as a time
either of public mourning or festivity. From being idle they waxed
wanton, quarrelsome, and turbulent; greedily listened to mutinous
discourses; the most profligate amongst them had most credit with them,
and at last they became passionate for a life of sloth and riot, utterly
averse to all military discipline and every fatigue of the camp. In the
camp was one Percennius; formerly a busy leader in the embroilments
of the theatre, and now a common soldier; a fellow of a petulant,
declaiming tongue, and by inflaming parties in the playhouse, well
qualified to excite and infatuate a crowd. This incendiary practised
upon the ignorant and unwary, such as were solicitous what might prove
their future usage, now Augustus was dead. He engaged them in nightly
confabulations, and by little and little incited them to violence and
disorders; and towards the evening, when the soberest and best affected
were withdrawn, he assembled the worst and most turbulent. When he
had thus ripened them for sedition, and other ready incendiaries were
combined with him, he personated the character of a lawful Commander,
and thus questioned and harangued them:

"Why did they obey, like slaves, a few Centurions and a fewer Tribunes?
When would they be bold enough to demand redress of their heavy
grievances, unless they snatched the present occasion, while the Emperor
was yet new and his authority wavering, to prevail with him by petition,
or by arms to force him? They had already by the misery of many years
paid dear for their patient sloth and stupid silence, since decrepit
with age and maimed with wounds, after a course of service for thirty or
forty years, they were still doomed to carry arms: nor even to those who
were discharged was there any end of the misery of warfare; they were
still kept tied to the colours, and under the creditable title of
Veterans endured the same hardships, and underwent the same labours.
But suppose any of them escaped so many dangers, and survived so many
calamities, where was their reward at last? Why, a long and weary march
remained yet to be taken into countries far remote and strange; where,
under the name of lands given them to cultivate, they had unhospitable
bogs to drain, and the wild wastes of mountains to manure. Severe and
ungainful of itself was the occupation of war: ten Asses [Footnote:
About 5d. ] a day the poor price of their persons and lives; out of this,
they must buy clothes, and tents, and arms; out of this, bribe the cruel
Centurions for a forbearance of blows, and occasional exemption from
hard duty: but stripes from their officers, and wounds from their
enemies, hard winters and laborious summers, bloody wars and barren
peace, were miseries without end: nor remained there other cure or
relief than to refuse to enlist but upon conditions certain, and fixed
by themselves; particularly, that their pay be a denarius or sixteen
Asses a day, [Footnote: About 8-1/2d. ] sixteen years be the utmost
term of serving; when discharged, to be no longer obliged to follow the
colours, but have their reward in ready money, paid them in the camp
where they earned it. Did the Praetorian Guards, they who had double
pay, they who after sixteen years' service were paid off and sent home,
bear severer difficulties, undergo superior dangers? He did not mean to
detract from the merit of their brethren the City guards; their own lot
however it was, to be placed amongst horrid and barbarous nations, nor
could they look from their tents, but they saw the foe. "

The whole crowd received this harangue with shouts of applause; but
from various instigations. Some displayed upon their bodies the obvious
impressions of stripes, others their hoary heads, many their vestments
ragged and curtailed, with backs utterly bare; as did all, their various
griefs, in the bitterness of reproach. At length to such excessive fury
they grew, that they proposed to incorporate the three legions into
one; nor by aught but emulation was the project defeated: for to his own
legion every man claimed the prerogative of swallowing and denominating
the other two. They took another method, and placed the three Eagles
of the legions, with the standards of the several cohorts, altogether
without rank or priority; then forthwith digged turf and were rearing
a tribunal, one high enough to be seen at a distance. In this
hurry arrived Blesus, who, falling into sore rebukes, and by force
interrupting particulars, called with vehemence to all: "Dip your hands
rather in my blood: to murder your General will be a crime less shameful
and heinous than to revolt from your Prince; for determined I am, either
to preserve the legions in their faith and obedience, if you kill me not
for my intended good office; or my death, if I fall by your hands, shall
hasten your remorse. "

For all this, turfs were accumulated, and the work was already breast
high, when, at last, overcome by his spirit and perseverance, they
forbore. Blesus was an able speaker: he told them "that sedition and
mutiny were not the methods of conveying to the Emperor the pretensions
of the soldiers; their demands too were new and singular; such as
neither the soldiers of old had ever made to the ancient Generals, nor
they themselves to the deified Augustus: besides, their claims were
ill-timed, when the Prince, just upon his accession, was already
embarrassed with the weight and variety of other cares. If, however,
they meant to try to gain in full peace those concessions, which, even
after a civil war, the conquerors never claimed; yet why trample upon
duty and obedience, why reject the laws of the army, and rules of
discipline? And if they meant to petition, why meditate violence? They
might at least appoint deputies; and in his presence trust them with
their pretensions. " Here they all cried out, "that the son of Blesus,
one of their Tribunes, should execute that deputation; and demand in
their name that, after sixteen years' service they should be discharged:
they said they would give him new orders, when he had succeeded in
these. " After the departure of the young officer, a moderate recess
ensued; the soldiers however exulted to have carried such a point:
the sending the son of their General, as the public advocate for their
cause, was to them full proof that they had gained by force and terror
that which by modesty and gentle means they would never have gained.

In the meantime those companies which, before the sedition began, were
sent to Nauportum [Footnote: Over-Laybach, in Carniola. ] to mend roads
and bridges, and upon other duties, no sooner heard of the uproar in
the camp, but they cast off all obedience, tore away the ensigns, and
plundered the neighbouring villages; even Nauportum itself, which for
greatness resembled a municipal town, was plundered. The endeavours
of the Centurions to restrain this violence, were first returned with
mockery and contempt, then with invectives and contumelies, at last
with outrage and blows. Their vengeance was chiefly bent against the
Camp-Marshal, Aufidienus Rufus: him they dragged from his chariot, and,
loading him with baggage, drove him before the first ranks; they then
insulted him, and asked in scorn, "whether he would gladly bear such
enormous burdens, whether endure such immense marches? " Rufus had
been long a common soldier, then became a Centurion, and afterwards
Camp-Marshal; a severe restorer of primitive strictness and discipline;
an indefatigable observer of every military duty, which he exacted from
others with the more rigour, as he had himself undergone them all with
patience.

By the arrival of this tumultuous band the sedition was again awakened
to its former outrage, and the seditious, roving abroad without control,
ravaged the country on every side. Blesus, for an example of terror
to the rest, commanded those who were most laden with plunder, to be
punished with stripes and cast into prison: for the General was still
dutifully obeyed by the Centurions, and by all the soldiers of any
merit; but the criminals refused to submit, and even struggled with
the guard who were carrying them off; they clasped the knees of the
bystanders, implored help from their fellows, now calling upon every
individual, and conjuring them by their particular names; then appealed
to them in a body, and supplicated the company, the cohort, the legion
to which they belonged; warning and proclaiming that the same ignominy
and chastisement hung over them all. With the same breath they heaped
invectives without measure upon their General, and called upon heaven
and all the Gods to be their witnesses and avengers; nor left they aught
unattempted to raise effectual hatred, compassion, terror, and every
species of fury. Hence the whole body rushed to their relief, burst open
the prison, unbound and rescued the prisoners: thus they owned for their
brethren, and incorporated with themselves, infamous revolters, and
traitors convict and condemned.

Hence the violence became more raging, and hence more sedition from more
leaders. There was particularly one Vibulenus, a common soldier, who,
exalted on the shoulders of his comrades, before the tribunal of Blesus,
thus declaimed in the ears of a multitude already outrageous, and eager
to hear what he had to say. "To these innocents," says he, "to these
miserable sufferers, our fellow-soldiers, you have indeed restored
breath and liberty: but who will restore life to my poor brother; who
my poor brother to me? He was sent hither by the German armies, with
propositions for our common good; and for this, was last night butchered
by that same Blesus, who in the murder employed his gladiators, bloody
men, whom he purposely entertains and arms for our common execution.
Where, oh where, Blesus, hast thou thrown his unoffending and mangled
corpse? Even open enemies do not inhumanly deny burial to the slain:
when I have satiated my sorrow with a thousand kisses, and a flood
of tears; command me also to be murdered, that these our brethren may
together bury my poor brother and me, slaughtered both as victims, yet
both guiltless of any crime but that of studying the common interest of
the legions. "

He inflamed those his complaints and expostulations with affecting sighs
and lamentations, beat his breast, tore his face, and showed all the
symptoms of anguish. Then those who carried him giving way, he threw
himself headlong at the feet of his companions; and thus prostrate and
supplicating, in them raised such a spirit of commiseration and such a
storm of vengeance, that one party of them instantly seized and bound
the General's gladiators; another, the rest of his family; while many
ran and dispersed themselves to search for the corpse: and had it not
been quickly manifest that there was no corpse to be found, that
the slaves of Blesus had upon the rack cleared themselves, and that
Vibulenus never had any brother; they had gone nigh to have sacrificed
the General. As it was, they expulsed the Camp-Marshal and Tribunes;
and as they fled, plundered their baggage: they likewise put to
death Lucilius the Centurion, whom they had sarcastically named _Cedo
Alteram_, because when upon the back of a soldier he had broken one
wand, he was wont to call for another, and then a third. The other
Centurions lurked in concealment, all but Julius Clemens, who for his
prompt capacity was saved, in order to manage the negotiations of the
soldiers: even two of the legions, the eighth and the fifteenth, were
ready to turn their swords upon each other; and had, but for the ninth:
one Sirpicus, a centurion, was the subject of the quarrel; him the
eighth required to be put to death, and the fifteenth protected him; but
the ninth interposed with entreaties to both, and with threats to those
who would not listen to prayers.

Tiberius, however, close and impenetrable, and ever labouring to smother
all melancholy tidings, was yet driven by those from Pannonia, to
despatch his son Drusus thither, accompanied by the principal nobility
and guarded by two Praetorian cohorts; but charged with no precise
instructions, only to adapt his measures to the present exigency: the
cohorts were strengthened with an extraordinary addition of chosen men,
with the greatest part of the Praetorian horse, and main body of the
German, then the Emperor's guards. Aelius Sejanus, lately joined with
his father Strabo in the command of the Praetorian bands, was also sent,
not only as Governor to the young Prince, but as his credit with the
Emperor was known to be mighty, to deal with the revolters by promises
and terrors. When Drusus approached, the legions, for show of respect,
marched out to meet him; not with the usual symptoms and shouts of
joy, nor with gay ensigns and arms glittering, but in a dress and
accoutrements hideous and squalid: in their countenances too, though
composed to sadness, were seen greater marks of sullenness and
contumacy.

As soon as he was within the camp, they secured the entrances with
guards, and in several quarters of it placed parties upon duty: the rest
crowded about the tribunal of Drusus, who stood beckoning with his hand
for silence. Here as often as they surveyed their own numbers and met
one another's resentful looks, they uttered their rage in horrible
cries: again, when upon the tribunal they beheld Caesar, awe and
trembling seized them: now, there prevailed an hollow and inarticulate
murmur; next, a furious clamour; then suddenly a dead silence: so that,
by a hasty succession of opposite passions, they were at once dismayed
and dreadful. When at last the uproar was stayed, he read his father's
letters, who in them declared, "that he would take an affectionate
care of the brave and invincible legions by whom he had sustained
successfully so many wars; and, as soon as his grief was a little
abated, deal with the Senate about their demands; in the meantime he
had sent them his son, on purpose to make them forthwith all the
concessions, which could instantly be made them: the rest were to
be reserved for the Senate, the proper distributers of rewards and
punishments by a right altogether unalienable. "

The assembly answered, that to Julius Clemens they had intrusted what
to speak in their name: he began with their demands, "to be discharged
after sixteen years' service, to have the reward which, for past
services upon that discharge, they claimed; their pay to be increased
to a Roman denarius; the veterans to be no longer detained under their
ensigns. " When Drusus urged, that wholly in the judgment of the Senate
and his father, these matters rested he was interrupted by their
clamours: "To what purpose came he; since he could neither augment their
pay, nor alleviate their grievances? and while upon them every officer
was allowed to inflict blows and death, the son of their Emperor wanted
power to relieve them by one beneficent action. The policy this of the
late reign, when Tiberius frustrated every request of the soldiers, by
referring all to Augustus; now Drusus was come with the same artifices
to delude them: were they never to have a higher visit than from the
children of their Prince? It was, indeed, unaccountable, that to the
Senate the Emperor should leave no part in the direction of the army,
only the rewarding of the soldiery: ought not the same Senate to be
consulted as often as a battle was to be fought, or a private man to be
punished? or, were their recompenses to be adjudged by many masters,
but their punishments to remain without any restraint or moderator
whatsoever? "

At last they abandoned the tribunal, and with menaces and insults fell
upon all they met belonging to Drusus, either as guards or friends;
meditating thus to provoke a quarrel, and an introduction to blood.
Chiefly enraged they were against Cneius Lentulus, as one for years and
warlike renown superior to any about the person of Drusus, and thence
suspected to have hardened the Prince, and been himself the foremost to
despise these outrages in the soldiery: nor was it long after, that as
he was leaving Drusus, and from the foresight of danger returning to the
winter quarters, they surrounded him and demanded "whither he went? to
the Emperor or Senate? there also to exercise his enmity to the legions,
and oppose their interest? " and instantly assaulted him with stones.
He was already covered with wounds and blood, and awaiting certain
assassination, when the troops attending Drusus flew to his assistance
and saved him.

The following night had a formidable aspect, and threatened the speedy
eruption of some tragical vengeance; when a phenomenon intervened and
assuaged all. The Moon, in the midst of a clear sky, seemed to the
soldiers suddenly to sicken; and they, who were ignorant of the natural
cause, took this for an omen foreboding the issue of their present
adventures: to their own labours, they compared the eclipse of the
planet; and prophesied, "that if to the distressed Goddess should be
restored her wonted brightness and vigour, equally successful would
be the issue of these their struggles. " Hence they strove to charm and
revive her with sounds, and by ringing upon brazen metal, and an uproar
of trumpets and cornets, made a vehement bellowing. As she appeared
brighter or darker, they exulted or lamented; but when gathering clouds
had utterly bereft them of her sight, and they believed her now buried
in everlasting darkness; then, as minds once thoroughly dismayed are
pliant to superstition, they bewailed "their own eternal sufferings
thus portended, and that against their misdeeds the angry Deities
were contending. " Drusus, who thought it behoved him to improve this
disposition of theirs, and to reap the fruits of wisdom from the
operations of chance; ordered certain persons to go round, and apply
to them from tent to tent. For this purpose, he called and employed
the Centurion Julius Clemens, and whoever else were by honest methods
acceptable to the multitude. These insinuated themselves everywhere,
with those who kept watch, or were upon patrol, or guarded the gates;
soothing all with hopes, and by terrors rousing them. "How long," said
they, "shall we hold the son of our Emperor thus besieged? Where will
our broils and wild contentions end? Shall we swear allegiance to
Percennius and Vibulenus? Will Vibulenus and Percennius support us with
pay during our service, and reward us with lands when dismissed? In
short, shall two common men dispossess the Neros and the Drusi, and to
themselves assume the Empire of the Roman People? Let us be wiser; and
as we were the last to revolt, be the first to relent. Such demands, as
comprise terms for all, are ever slowly accorded; but particulars may,
when they please, merit instant favour, and instantly receive it. "
These reasonings alarmed them, and filled them with mutual jealousies.
Presently the fresh soldiers forsook the veterans, and one legion
separated from another; then by degrees returned the love of duty and
obedience. They relinquished the guard of the gates: and the Eagles
and other ensigns, which in the beginning of the tumult they had thrown
together, were now restored each to its distinct station.

Drusus, as soon as it was day, summoned an assembly, and though
unskilled in speaking, yet with a haughtiness inherent in his blood,
rebuked their past and commended their present behaviour. "With threats
and terrors," he said, "it was impossible to subdue him; but if he saw
them reclaimed to submission, if from them he heard the language of
supplicants, he would send to his father to accept with a reconciled
spirit the petitions of the legions," Hence, at their entreaty, for
their deputy to Tiberius the same Blesus was again despatched, and with
him Lucius Apronius, a Roman Knight of the cohort of Drusus; and Justus
Catonius, a Centurion of the first order. There followed great debates
in the council of Drusus, while some advised "to suspend all proceeding
till the return of the deputies, and by a course of courtesy the while
to soothe the soldiers; others maintained, that remedies more potent
must needs be applied: in a multitude, was to be found nothing on this
side extremes; always imperious where they are not awed, and to be
without danger despised when frightened: to their present terror from
superstition was to be added the dread of their General, by his dooming
to death the authors of the sedition. " Rather prompt to rigorous
counsels was the genius of Drusus: Vibulenus and Percennius were
produced, and by his command executed; it is by many recounted, that in
his own tent they were secretly despatched and buried; by others, that
their bodies were ignominiously thrown over the entrenchments, for a
public spectacle of terror.

Search was then made for other remarkable incendiaries. Some were caught
skulking without the camp, and there by the Centurions or Praetorian
soldiers slain; others were by their several companies delivered up, as
a proof of their own sincere faith. The consternation of the soldiers
was heightened by the precipitate accession of winter, with rains
incessant and so violent, that they were unable to stir from their
tents, or maintain common intercourse, nay, scarce to preserve their
standards, assaulted continually by tempestuous winds and raging floods.
Dread besides of the angry Gods still possessed them; nor was it at
random, they thought, that such profane traitors were thus visited
with black eclipses and roaring tempests; neither against these their
calamities was there other relief than the relinquishing of a camp by
impiety contaminated and accursed, and after expiation of their guilt
returning to their several garrisons. The eighth legion departed first;
and then the fifteenth: the ninth, with earnest clamours, pressed
for continuing there till the letters from Tiberius arrived; but when
deserted by the other two, their courage failed, and by following of
their own accord, they prevented the shame of being forced. Drusus
seeing order and tranquillity restored, without staying for the return
of the deputies, returned himself to Rome.

Almost at the same time, and from the same causes, the legions in
Germany raised an insurrection, with greater numbers, and thence with
more fury. Passionate too were their hopes that Germanicus would never
brook the rule of another, but yield to the spirit of the legions, who
had force sufficient to bring the whole Empire under his sway. Upon
the Rhine were two armies; that called the higher, commanded by Caius
Silius, Lieutenant-General; the lower, by Aulus Caecina: the command in
chief rested in Germanicus, then busy collecting the tribute in Gaul.
The forces however under Silius, with cautious ambiguity, watched the
success of the revolt which others began: for the soldiers of the lower
army had broken out into open outrages, which took its rise from the
fifth legion, and the one-and-twentieth; who after them drew the first,
and twentieth. These were altogether upon the frontiers of the Ubians,
passing the campaign in utter idleness or light duty: so that upon the
news that Augustus was dead, the whole swarm of new soldiers lately
levied in the city, men accustomed to the effeminacies of Rome, and
impatient of every military hardship, began to possess the ignorant
minds of the rest with many turbulent expectations, "that now was
presented the lucky juncture for veterans to demand entire dismission;
the fresh soldiers, larger pay; and all, some mitigation of their
miseries; as also to return due vengeance for the cruelties of the
Centurions. " These were not the harangues of a single incendiary, like
Percennius amongst the Pannonian legions; nor uttered, as there, in the
ears of men who, while they saw before their eyes armies greater than
their own, mutinied with awe and trembling: but here was a sedition of
many mouths, filled with many boasts, "that in their hands lay the power
and fate of Rome; by their victories the empire was enlarged, and from
them the Caesars took, as a compliment, the surname of Germanicus. "

Neither did Caecina strive to restrain them. A madness so extensive had
bereft him of all his bravery and firmness. In this precipitate frenzy
they rushed at once, with swords drawn, upon the Centurions, the eternal
objects of their resentment, and always the first victims to their
vengeance. Them they dragged to the earth, and upon each bestowed
a terrible portion of sixty blows; a number proportioned to that of
Centurions in a legion. Then bruised, mangled, and half expiring, as
they were, they cast them all out of the camp, some into the stream
of the Rhine. Septimius, who had for refuge fled to the tribunal of
Caecina, and lay clasping his feet, was demanded with such imperious
vehemence, that he was forced to be surrendered to destruction. Cassius
Cherea (afterwards famous to posterity for killing Caligula), then a
young man of undaunted spirit, and one of the Centurions, boldly opened
himself a passage with his sword through a crowd of armed foes striving
to seize him. After this no further authority remained to the Tribunes,
none to the Camp-Marshals. The seditious soldiers were their own
officers; set the watch, appointed the guard, and gave all orders proper
in the present exigency; hence those who dived deepest into the spirit
of the soldiery, gathered a special indication how powerful and obdurate
the present insurrection was like to prove; for in their conduct were no
marks of a rabble, where every man's will guides him, or the instigation
of a few controls the whole. Here, all at once they raged, and all at
once kept silence; with so much concert and steadiness, that you would
have believed them under the sovereign direction of one.

To Germanicus the while, then receiving, as I have said, the tribute in
Gaul, news were brought of the decease of Augustus; whose grand-daughter
Agrippina he had to wife, and by her many children: he was himself the
grandson of Livia, by her son Drusus, the brother of Tiberius; but ever
under heavy anxiety from the secret hate which his uncle and grandmother
bore him: hate the more virulent as its grounds were altogether
unrighteous; for, dear and adored was the memory of his father Drusus
amongst the Roman People, and from him was firmly expected that had he
succeeded to the Empire, he would have restored public liberty: hence
their zeal for Germanicus, and of him the same hopes conceived; as
from his youth he possessed a popular spirit, and marvellous affability
utterly remote from the comportment and address of Tiberius, ever
haughty and mysterious. The animosities too between the ladies
administered fresh fuel; while towards Agrippina, Livia was actuated
by the despite natural to step-mothers: and over-tempestuous was the
indignation of Agrippina; only that her known chastity and love for her
husband, always gave her mind, however vehement, a virtuous turn.

But Germanicus, the nearer he stood to supreme rule, the more vigour he
exerted to secure it to Tiberius: to him he obliged the Sequanians, a
neighbouring people, as also the several Belgic cities, to swear present
allegiance; and the moment he learnt the uproar of the legions, posted
thither: he found them advanced without the camp to receive him, with
eyes cast down, in feigned token of remorse. After he entered the
entrenchments, instantly his ears were filled with plaints and
grievances, uttered in hideous and mixed clamours: nay, some catching
his hand, as if they meant to kiss it, thrust his fingers into their
mouths, to feel their gums destitute of teeth; others showed their limbs
enfeebled, and bodies stooping under old age. As he saw the assembly
mixed at random, he commanded them "to range themselves into companies,
thence more distinctly to hear his answers; as also to place before
them their several ensigns, that the cohorts at least might be
distinguished. "

With slowness and reluctance it was, that they obeyed him; then
beginning with an encomium upon the "venerable memory of Augustus," he
proceeded to the "many victories and many triumphs of Tiberius," and
with peculiar praises celebrated the "glorious and immortal deeds, which
with these very legions in Germany he had accomplished;" he next boasted
the quiet state of things, the consent of all Italy, the loyal faith
of both the Gauls: and every quarter of the Roman State exempt from
disaffection and turbulence.

Thus far they listened with silence, at least with moderate murmuring;
but the moment he touched their sedition and questioned, "where now was
the wonted modesty of soldiers? where the glory of ancient discipline?
whither had they chased their Tribunes, whither their Centurions? " to a
man, they stripped themselves to the skin, and there exposed the seams
of their wounds and bruises of their chastisements, in the rage of
reproach. Then in the undistinguished voice of uproar, they urged
"the exactions for occasional exemptions, their scanty pay, and their
rigorous labours;" which they represented in a long detail: "ramparts to
be reared, entrenchments digged, trees felled and drawn, forage cut and
carried, fuel prepared and fetched," with every other article of
toil required by the exigencies of war, or to prevent idleness in the
soldiery. Above all, from the veterans arose a cry most horrible:
they enumerated thirty years or upwards undergone in the service; "and
besought that to men utterly spent he would administer respite, nor
suffer them to be beholden to death for the last relief from their
toils; but discharge them from a warfare so lasting and severe, and
grant them the means of a comfortable recess. " Nay, some there were
who of him required the money bequeathed them by Augustus; and towards
Germanicus uttering zealous vows, with omens of happy fortune, declared
their cordial attachment to his cause if he would himself assume the
Empire. Here, as if already stained with their treason, he leaped
headlong from the Tribunal; but with swords drawn they opposed his
departure, and threatened his life, if he refused to return: yet, with
passionate protestations that "he would rather die than be a traitor,"
he snatched his sword from his side, and aiming full at his breast,
would have buried it there, had not those who were next him seized his
hand and by force restrained him. A cluster of soldiers in the extremity
of the assembly exhorted him, nay, what is incredible to hear, some
particulars advancing nearer, exhorted him _to strike home_: in truth
one Calusidius, a common soldier, presented him his naked sword, and
added, "it is sharper than your own;" a behaviour which to the rest,
outrageous as they were, seemed savage, and of horrid example: hence the
friends of Germanicus had time to snatch him away to his tent.

It was here consulted what remedy to apply: for it was advised, that
"ministers of sedition were preparing to be despatched to the other
army, to draw them too into a confederacy in the revolt; that the
capital of the Ubians was destined to be sacked; and if their hands were
once inured to plunder, they would break in, and ravage all Gaul. " This
dread was augmented by another: the enemy knew of the sedition in the
Roman army, and were ready to invade the Empire, if its barrier the
Rhine were left unguarded. Now, to arm the allies and the auxiliaries of
Rome, and lead them against the departing legions, was to rouse a civil
war: severity was dangerous: the way of largesses infamous; and alike
threatening it was to the State to grant the turbulent soldiers nothing,
or yield them everything. After revolving every reason and objection,
the result was, to feign letters and directions from Tiberius, "that
those who had served twenty years should be finally discharged; such as
served sixteen be under the ensign and privileges of veterans, released
from every duty but that of repulsing the enemy; and the legacy, which
they demanded, should be paid and doubled. "

The soldiers, who perceived that, purely to evade present difficulty,
the concessions were forged, insisted to have them forthwith executed;
and instantly the Tribunes despatched the discharge of the veterans:
that of the money was adjourned to their several winter quarters; but
the fifth legion, and the one-and-twentieth, refused to stir, till in
that very camp they were paid; so that out of the money reserved by
himself and his friends for travailing expenses, Germanicus was obliged
to raise the sum. Caecina, Lieutenant-General, led the first legion and
twentieth back to the capital of the Ubians: an infamous march, when the
plunder of their General's coffers was carried amidst the ensigns and
Roman Eagles. Germanicus, the while, proceeding to the army in higher
Germany, brought the second, thirteenth, and sixteenth legions to swear
allegiance without hesitation: to the fourteenth, who manifested some
short suspense, he made unasked a tender of their money, and a present
discharge.

But a party of veterans which belonged to the disorderly legions, and
then in garrison among the Chaucians, as they began a sedition there,
were somewhat quelled by the instant execution of two of their body: an
execution this, commanded by Maenius, Camp-Marshal, and rather of good
example, than done by competent authority. The tumult, however, swelling
again with fresh rage, he fled, but was discovered; so that, finding
no safety in lurking, from his own bravery he drew his defence, and
declared "that to himself, who was only their Camp-Marshal, these their
outrages were not done, but done to the authority of Germanicus, their
General, to the majesty of Tiberius their Emperor. " At the same time,
braving and dismaying all that would have stopped him, he fiercely
snatched the colours, faced about towards the Rhine, and pronouncing
the doom of traitors and deserters to every man who forsook his ranks,
brought them back to their winter quarters, mutinous, in truth, but not
daring to mutiny.

In the meantime the deputies from the Senate met Germanicus at the
altar of the Ubians [Footnote: Cologne. ], whither in his return he was
arrived. Two legions wintered there, the first and twentieth, with the
soldiers lately placed under the standard of veterans; men already under
the distractions of guilt and fear: and now a new terror possessed them,
that these Senators were come armed with injunctions to cancel every
concession which they had by sedition extorted; and, as it is the custom
of the crowd to be ever charging somebody with the crimes suggested by
their own false alarms, the guilt of this imaginary decree they laid
upon Minutius Plancus, a Senator of consular dignity, and at the head of
this deputation. In the dead of night, they began to clamour aloud for
the purple standard placed in the quarters of Germanicus, and, rushing
tumultuously to his gate, burst the doors, dragged the Prince out of his
bed, and, with menaces of present death, compelled him to deliver the
standard. Then, as they roved about the camp, they met the deputies,
who, having learnt the outrage, were hastening to Germanicus: upon
them they poured a deluge of contumelies, and to present slaughter were
devoting them, Plancus chiefly, whom the dignity of his character had
restrained from flight; nor in this mortal danger had he other refuge
than the quarters of the first legion, where, embracing the Eagle and
other ensigns, he sought sanctuary from the religious veneration
ever paid them. But, in spite of religion, had not Calpurnius, the
Eagle-bearer, by force defeated the last violence of the assault, in the
Roman camp had been slain an ambassador of the Roman People, and
with his blood had been stained the inviolable altars of the Gods; a
barbarity rare even in the camp of an enemy. At last, day returning,
when the General, and the soldiers, and their actions could be
distinguished, Germanicus entered the camp, and commanding Plancus to
be brought, seated him by himself upon the tribunal: he then inveighed
against the late "pernicious frenzy, which in it, he said, had fatality,
and was rekindled by no despite in the soldiers, but by that of the
angry Gods. " He explained the genuine purposes of that embassy, and
lamented with affecting eloquence "the outrage committed upon Plancus,
altogether brutal and unprovoked; the foul violence done to the sacred
person of an Ambassador, and the mighty disgrace from thence derived
upon the legion. " Yet as the assembly showed more stupefaction than
calmness, he dismissed the deputies under a guard of auxiliary horse.

During this affright, Germanicus was by all men censured, "that he
retired not to the higher army, whence he had been sure of ready
obedience, and even of succour against the revolters: already he had
taken wrong measures more than enow, by discharging some, rewarding all,
and other tender counsels; if he despised his own safety, yet why expose
his infant son, why his wife big with child, to the fury of outrageous
traitors, wantonly violating all the most sacred rights amongst men? It
became him at least to restore his wife and son safe to Tiberius and
to the State. " He was long unresolved; besides Agrippina was averse to
leave him, and urged, that "she was the grand-daughter of Augustus, and
it was below her spirit to shrink in a time of danger. " But embracing
her and their little son, with great tenderness and many tears, he
prevailed with her to depart. Thus there marched miserably along a band
of helpless women: the wife of a great commander fled like a fugitive,
and upon her bosom bore her infant son: about her a troop of other
ladies, dragged from their husbands, and drowned in tears, uttering
their heavy lamentations; nor weaker than theirs was the grief felt by
all who remained.

These groans and tears, and this spectacle of woe, the appearances
rather of a city stormed and sacked, than of a Roman camp, that of
Germanicus Caesar, victorious and flourishing, awakened attention and
inquiry in the soldiers: leaving their tents, they cried, "Whence these
doleful wailings? what so lamentable!