If we examine the authorities for the history of the reign we have

been reviewing, we shall find that those who were nearest to the times

themselves have generally treated Tiberius with the greatest indulgence.

Velleius Paterculus indeed, and Valerius Maximus, his contemporaries

and subjects, must be regarded as mere courtly panegyrists; but the

adulation of the one, though it jars on ears accustomed to the dignified

self-respect of the earlier Romans, is not more high-flown in language

and sentiment than what our own writers have addressed to the Georges,

and even the Charleses and Jameses, of the English monarchy; while

that of the other is chiefly offensive from the connection in which it

stands with the lessons of virtue and patriotism which his book was

specially designed to illustrate. The elder Seneca, the master of a

school of rhetoric, to which science his writings are devoted, makes no

mention of the emperor under whom he wrote; but his son, better known

as the statesman and philosopher, though he was under the temptation of

contrasting the austere and aged tyrant with the gay young prince to whom

he was himself attached, speaks of him with considerable moderation, and

ascribes the worst of his deeds to Sejanus and the delators rather than

to his own evil disposition.

In the pages of Philo[i] and Josephus,[h] the government of Tiberius is

represented as mild and equitable; it is not till we come to Suetonius

and Tacitus, in the third generation, that his enormities are blazoned

in the colours so painfully familiar to us.[16] It will suffice here

to remark that both these later writers belong to a period of strong

reaction against the Cæsarian despotism, when the senate was permitted

to raise its venerable head and assume a show, at least, of its old

imperial prerogatives; when the secret police of Rome was abolished,

delation firmly repressed, freedom of speech proclaimed by the voice of

the emperor himself, and the birthright of the Roman citizen respectfully

restored to him. There ensued a strong revulsion of feeling, not against

monarchy, which had then become an accepted institution, but against

the corruptions which had turned it into tyranny; and Tiberius, as the

reputed founder of the system of delation, bore the odium of all the

crimes of all the tyrants who had succeeded him. Tacitus admits that

the _affairs of Tiberius_ were misrepresented during his power by fear,

and after his death by spite; yet we cannot doubt that Tacitus himself

often yields to the bias of his detractors, while Suetonius is at best

indifferent to the truth. After all, a sober discretion must suspend

its belief regarding many of the circumstances above recorded, and

acknowledge that it is only through a treacherous and distorting haze

that we have scanned the features of this ill-omened principate.

THE CHARACTER OF THE TIMES

[Sidenote: [25-37 A.D.]]

Nevertheless, the terror which prevailed in the last years of Tiberius,

to whomsoever it is chiefly to be ascribed, exercised a baleful influence

over society at Rome, and shows by effects which are still discoverable

that it has been but little exaggerated. It has left permanent traces of

itself in the manifest decline and almost total extinction of literature

under its pressure. The Roman writers addressed only a small class

in the capital; to be popularly known in the provinces, to be read

generally throughout the Roman world, was a privilege reserved for few,

and anticipated perhaps rarely by any. Even in the capital the poet and

historian composed their works for a circle of a few thousand knights

and senators, for the friends and families of their own few hundreds of

acquaintances, whom they invited to encourage their efforts by attending

their recitations. The paralysis which benumbed the energies of the Roman

nobility at this crisis of terror and despair, extended naturally to the

organs of their sentiments and opinions. Not history and philosophy only

suffered an eclipse, but poetry also, which under Augustus had been the

true expression of the national feelings, became mute when the feelings

themselves could no longer be trusted with utterance. Cremutius was

subjected to persecution for pronouncing that Brutus and Cassius were

the last of the Romans. A tragedian was accused, and if accused, we may

presume, perhaps, that he was condemned for speaking evil of the king

of men, Agamemnon; and various authors were assailed, and their writings

sentenced to proscription, to whose recitations the last princeps had

himself listened with indulgence.

The poems which were tolerated were generally the most trifling, and

perhaps licentious in character. The sly irony of the fable, a style of

composition adopted by slaves, and imitated from the servile Orientals,

seems not unsuitable to these perilous times. The name of Phædrus belongs

in all probability to the Tiberian period, but it is curious that no

later writer for four centuries should have cared to notice him. Similar

or worse has been the fate of a more serious writer, Manilius, the author

of an elaborate poem on astronomy and its spurious sister astrology, a

theme of some danger under the circumstances of the times, but which he

has treated with irreproachable discretion; it is owing, perhaps, to the

disgrace under which the forbidden science fell that this innocent work

lapsed into entire oblivion, and has escaped the mention of any writer of

antiquity.

The deep gloom which settled upon the face of higher society at Rome

during the reign of Tiberius was heightened by its contrast with the

frivolous dissipation of the populace, who, though deprived of the

glitter of a brilliant court, and surrounded by signs of mourning

and humiliation among their natural leaders, not the less abandoned

themselves to the sensual enjoyments which alone they relished, and

rejoiced in their utter indifference to political principles, to parties,

and to men. When Sejanus fell, they clamoured with exultation over the

body of the traitor; nevertheless, had the goddess Nursia, says the

moralist, but favoured her Etruscan votary; had but the false intriguer

circumvented the guileless old man, on the instant they would have been

heard proclaiming Sejanus a Cæsar and an Augustus. In the one class was

abandonment of public life, shame, despair, and suicide; the intolerable

evils of the time drove men not to religious consolations, but to a

restless inquiry into the future, or a vain attempt to lull the sense

of the present in philosophic apathy: the other rushed headlong, hour

by hour, to the baths, shows, and largesses, or shouted at the heels of

the idol of the moment, or sighed and perhaps murmured at his loss, and

speedily resigned itself to oblivion of the fitful emotion of the day.

We must be careful notwithstanding to observe that both the shame and the

degradation were for the most part confined to the city and its vicinity,

which were oppressed by the shadow of the imperial despot.[f]

CALIGULA (CAIUS JULIUS CÆSAR CALIGULA), 37-41 A.D.

All Rome drew a deep breath at the great news. Macro’s adroitness and

the devotion of the Romans to the house of Germanicus induced the senate

to confer all the imperial prerogatives on the youthful Caligula. Thus

began one of the strangest and most terrible episodes in the history

of Rome. The dangerous defects and the baleful forces inherent in the

system created by the first two emperors were fated to come to light

with amazing rapidity in the course of this young Cæsar’s reign; a reign

which it is difficult for the historian to consider critically, because

one result of the wrath and contempt most justly evoked by his scandalous

misrule has been that of many of his sanguinary and foolish deeds no

record except a deliberate caricature has come down to us. The fervid

enthusiasm with which the capital hailed the son of Germanicus seemed at

first justified by the manner in which Caligula exercised the authority

which had now devolved upon him.

Impelled by nervous haste and violent passion in all things, whether good

or evil, and relying on neither minister nor favourite, he displayed a

restless energy of the type natural to a man of but moderate ability who

is wholly deficient in administrative training and incapable of exact

thought. His delight at the enthusiastic acclamations of the Roman people

inspired this singularly organised being with the best of resolutions; he

fully intended to make the Romans happy.

Thus he bore himself at first with modesty and good sense, especially

in his dealings with the senate. His liberality to the populace and

the soldiers, his pious reverence towards the dead, no less than his

consideration for the living members of his house, and the pardon of all

persons accused of offences of _majestas_, together with various liberal

ordinances, all conspired to produce a strong impression in his favour.

But what most roused the enthusiasm of all classes was that, casting

aside the niggardly economy of the emperor Tiberius, he shared freely

with them all in the festive humour of “games” of every kind.

For eight months he ruled in this fashion, and at the end of that time

his unbridled excesses brought on a dangerous malady, from which he

recovered much to the hurt of the Roman Empire and his own reputation.

Previous to this time he had lived as in a state of perpetual mental

intoxication, brought to a climax probably by the fulsome expressions

of popular concern during his illness. Whether the latter really had an

ill effect upon his mental faculties or not, the madness of which he

thenceforth gave manifest proofs is of a different type; a type to which

critical students of the history of imperial Rome have given the name of

megalomania or Cæsarian madness, and we meet with it in others besides

Caligula.

A man in this condition--sane enough to realise that as long as the

material basis of his power, the loyalty of the soldiery and the masses,

is unshaken, he will meet with no opposition in the gratification of

his maddest whims--may at any moment conceive the idea of testing the

validity of his omnipotence in any direction. It is a mere chance whether

this display of power is directed towards great or even reasonable

ends, or whether it issues in deeds of crime and horror. This is more

particularly the case when the monarch in question is the victim of

shattered nerves, the child of caprice, and the toy of every passing

impulse.

The premonitory signs of the evil to come manifested themselves soon

after the beginning of the year 38. Caligula, who chiefly delighted in

the company of charioteers, stage-players, and buffoons, began to make a

wanton exhibition of his despotic power, thus abruptly breaking with the

astute policy of his predecessors. And it was a despotism which ignored

the precepts of ancient Roman decorum, which, in sexual relations,

overstepped all bounds of law and modesty, nay, even of common decency.

To the wearisome admonitions of Macro, who exhorted him to act with some

degree of discretion, he replied by forcing both the general and his wife

to commit suicide.

Presently, however, the monarch having spent the vast riches of Tiberius

in the space of nine or ten months, and being possessed with a mania for

building as well as with a passion for games, became aware of a very

perceptible limit to his omnipotence. To relieve himself of his financial

embarrassments, he had recourse to the most sanguinary as well as to

the pettiest and most infamous measures. Capital charges, most of which

were decided before the emperor’s own tribunal, became more and more

numerous, partly to satisfy Caligula’s growing lust of blood, partly to

fill his coffers with the proceeds of confiscation. Trials for offences

of _majestas_ were revived as a matter of course (39 A.D.).

The money thus acquired was squandered again and again on objects that

could only be called colossal whims. Of these the most notorious was the

construction of the ephemeral bridge of boats between Puteoli and Baiæ,

across which he caused a substantial highway to be made, with aqueducts

and posting stations, after the model of the Appian way, for the sole

purpose of crossing it, surrounded by his guards, in the character of

triumphator, and celebrating this chaining of the ocean by a gorgeous

banquet.

His administration of imperial affairs was characterised by the same

whimsical caprice. Having restored for no good purpose the kingdom of

Commagene, he bestowed upon his friend and contemporary, M. Julius

Agrippa (or Herod Agrippa, born 11 B.C.), grandson of Herod the Great,

the greater part of his grandfather’s dominions, most of which had been

annexed to Syria under Augustus and Tiberius. On the other hand, he

summoned Ptolemy, king of Mauretania (from 23 B.C. onwards), to Rome in

the year 40, and there put him out of the way for the sake of his wealth.

Tradition represents all the scenes of Caligula’s visit to Gaul in

a light absolutely grotesque. [Some details from Suetonius will be

introduced presently.] The shout of triumph after a sortie across

the Rhine in which some of his Germanic guards were brought back as

sham prisoners, strikes the reader as wholly comic, but we note with

indignation that at Lyons Caligula continued the disgraceful system of

making money by capital sentences and criminal charges against persons

of rank, and recruited his finances by putting interesting and ancient

articles from the palace of the Cæsars at Rome up to public auction.

The collection of an army, estimated at some 250,000 men, in the ports

of the Morini on the Channel with a view to the conquest of Britain

remained nothing but an empty demonstration. It may have induced the

British chiefs to avert the danger by a formal act of homage and valuable

presents; but tradition represents Caligula as concluding this bloodless

expedition with a piece of buffoonery, and after bestowing costly gifts

on the soldiers, commanding them to pick up shells on the shore as

“spoils won from the ocean.”

When he returned to Rome, late in the summer of the year 40, his humour

assumed a more and more sinister character. He regarded his own person

as divine, though he loved to appear with the attributes of the various

gods and goddesses of the Græco-Roman Pantheon; and he now instituted a

college of priests in his own honour, and while heaping ignominy on the

most revered of ancient images of the gods, commanded that he himself

should be worshipped in temples set apart for the purpose throughout the

provinces.

In this attempt he met with serious resistance only from the orthodox

Jews. When P. Petronius, legate of Syria, received orders to set up a

colossal gilded statue of the emperor in the Holy of Holies at Jerusalem,

the wrath of the Jews rose to such a pitch that nothing but the sudden

death of Caligula prevented the outbreak of grave trouble throughout

Judea. By this time the tyrant’s popularity was declining even among

the masses at Rome, whom he had pampered with games and presents;

for he had lately begun to impose on the citizens of the capital a

series of burdensome taxes, which were exacted with the utmost rigour.

Nevertheless his fate did not overtake him till his conduct gave deep

offence to several of the officers of the prætorian guard. Then Cassius

Chærea, tribune of a prætorian cohort, headed a conspiracy, and aided by

Cornelius Sabinus and others slew the emperor in a corridor of the palace

on the 24th of January, 41 B.C.[m]

SUETONIUS DESCRIBES CALIGULA

For details of his brief but appalling career we cannot do better than

go to the fountain head--Suetonius. There is no other important ancient

source for this reign except Dion Cassius[j]; and modern research can

only interpret and criticise, without adding to the original records.[a]

He assumed a variety of titles, such as “Dutiful, the Son of the Camp,

the Father of the Armies, and the Greatest and the Best Cæsar.” Upon

hearing some kings, who came to the city to pay their respects to him,

contending amongst themselves at supper, about the nobleness of their

birth, he exclaimed, “Let there be but one prince, one king.” He was

strongly inclined to take a crown immediately, and to turn the imperial

dignity into the form of a kingdom; but being told that he far exceeded

the grandeur of kings and princes, he began to arrogate to himself a

divine majesty. He ordered all the images of the gods, that were famous

either for their beauty or the veneration paid them, amongst which was

that of Jupiter Olympius, to be brought from Greece, that he might take

the heads off, and put on his own. He carried on a part of the Palatine

as far as the Forum; and the temple of Castor and Pollux being converted

into a kind of porch to his house, he would often stand betwixt the two

brothers, and so present himself to be worshipped by all votaries, some

of whom saluted him by the name of Jupiter Latiaris. He ordered likewise

a temple and priests, and the most choice victims for his own godhead. In

his temple stood an image of gold, exactly of the same size as himself,

and which was every day dressed up in the same sort of garment as that

which he used. The most opulent persons in the city offered themselves

as candidates for the honour of being his priests, and purchased it

successively at an immense price. The victims were flamingoes, peacocks,

bustards, numidicæ, turkey-hens, and pheasant-hens, each sacrificed on

their respective days. In the night he used constantly to invite the

moon, when full, to his embraces. In the daytime he talked in private to

Jupiter Capitolinus, one while whispering to him, and another turning his

ear to him; sometimes he would talk aloud, and in railing language.

[Illustration: THE CLAUDIAN AQUEDUCT

(Begun by Caligula; finished by Claudius)]

He was unwilling to be thought or called the grandson of Agrippa, because

of the obscurity of his birth; and he was offended if any one, either in

prose or verse, ranked him amongst the Cæsars. He said his mother was

the fruit of an incestuous commerce, maintained by Augustus with his

daughter Julia. And not content with this vile reflection upon the memory

of Augustus, he forbade his victories at Actium, and upon the coast of

Sicily, to be celebrated as usual; affirming that they had been of the

most pernicious and fatal consequence to the Roman people. He called

his grandmother Livia Augusta “Ulysses in a woman’s dress,” and had the

indecency to reflect upon her in a letter to the senate, as of mean

birth, and descended, by the mother’s side, from a grandfather who was

only a member of the council of state at Fundi; whereas it is certain,

from authentic documents, that Aufidius Lingo held public offices at Rome.

His grandmother Antonia desiring a private conference with him, he denied

the request, unless Macro, commander of the guards, might be present. By

affronts of this kind, and ill usage, he was the occasion of her death;

but, as some think, not without giving her a dose of poison. He paid

not the smallest respect to her memory after her death; and gratified

himself at beholding, from his parlour, her funeral pile on fire. His

brother Tiberius, who had no expectation of any violence, he despatched,

by suddenly sending to him a military tribune for that purpose. He forced

Silanus his father-in-law to kill himself, by cutting his throat with

a razor. The pretext he alleged for these murders was, that the latter

had not followed him upon putting to sea in stormy weather, but stayed

behind with the view of seizing the city, if he should have been lost in

the voyage. The other, he said, smelt of an antidote, which he had taken

to prevent his being poisoned by him; whereas Silanus was only afraid

of being seasick, and of the trouble of the voyage; and Tiberius had

only made use of a medicine for a habitual cough, which was constantly

increasing upon him. As to his successor Claudius, he only saved him to

make sport with.

He lived in the habit of incest with all his sisters; when one of them,

Drusilla, was married to Cassius Longinus, a man of consular rank, he

took her from him, and kept her openly as his wife. In a fit of sickness,

he by his will appointed her heiress of his estate, and the empire

likewise. After her death, he ordered a public mourning for her; during

which it was capital for any person to laugh, use the bath, or sup with

parents, wife, or children. Being inconsolable under his affliction,

he went hastily, and in the night-time, from the city, going through

Campania to Syracuse; and then suddenly he returned without shaving

his beard, or trimming his hair all that time. Nor did he ever after,

in matters of the greatest importance, not even in the assemblies of

the people and soldiers, swear any otherwise, than “By the divinity of

Drusilla.”

He never but once in his life concerned himself with military affairs,

and then not deliberately, but in his journey to Mevania, to see the

grove and river of Clitumnus. Being put in mind of recruiting his company

of Batavians, which he had about him, he resolved upon an expedition

into Germany. Immediately he drew together several legions and auxiliary

forces from all quarters, and made everywhere new levies with the utmost

rigour. Laying in provisions of all kinds, beyond what had ever been done

upon the like occasion, he set out on his march; and pursued it with so

much haste and hurry sometimes, that the guards were obliged, contrary

to custom, to lay their standards upon the backs of horses or mules, and

so follow him. At other times, he would march with such slowness and

delicacy, that he would be carried in a chair by eight men; ordering the

roads to be swept by the people of the neighbouring towns, and sprinkled

with water to lay the dust.

Upon arriving in the camp, to show himself an active general, and severe

disciplinarian, he cashiered the lieutenant-generals that came up late

with the auxiliary forces from different parts. In reviewing the army, he

took their companies from most of the centurions of the first rank, who

had now served their legal time in the wars, and from some but a few days

before their time would have expired; alleging against them their great

age and infirmity; and railing at the covetous disposition of the rest of

them, he reduced the premiums due to such as had served out their time to

the sum of six thousand sesterces. Though he only received the submission

of Adminius, the son of Cinobelinus a British prince, who being forced

from his native country by his father, came over to him with a small

body of troops; yet, as if the whole island had been surrendered to him,

he despatched magnificent letters to Rome upon the occasion, ordering

the bearers to proceed in their chaise directly up to the Forum and the

senate house, and not to deliver the letters but to the consuls in the

temple of Mars, and in the presence of a full assembly of the senators.

[Illustration: ROMAN SOLDIER’S METHOD OF FORDING A RIVER, CARRYING HIS

ARMS AND CLOTHING ON HIS SHIELD]

Soon after this, there being a general tranquillity, he ordered a few

Germani of his guard to be carried over and concealed on the other side

of the Rhine, and word to be brought him after dinner, in a great hurry,

that an enemy was advancing. This being accordingly done, he immediately

posted away with his friends, and a party of the horse-guards, into the

adjoining wood, where lopping the branches of some trees, and dressing

them up in the manner of trophies, he returned by torchlight, upbraiding

those who did not follow him, with timorousness and cowardice; but

presented the companions and sharers of his victory with a new kind of

crown, and under a new name, with the representation of the sun, moon,

and stars upon them, which he called exploratoriæ. Again, some hostages

were by his order taken out of a school, and privately sent off; upon

notice of which he immediately rose from table, pursued them with the

horse, as if they had run away, and coming up with them, brought them

back in chains; proceeding to an extravagant pitch of ostentation

likewise in this military comedy. Upon again sitting down to table, when

some came to acquaint him that the army was all come in, he ordered them

to sit down as they were in their coats of mail, animating them in the

words of a well-known verse of Virgil.

In the meantime, he reprimanded the senate and people of Rome by a very

severe proclamation, “for revelling and frequenting the diversions of

the circus and theatre, and enjoying themselves in their country-houses,

whilst their emperor was fighting, and exposing his person to the

greatest dangers.”

At last, as if resolved to make an end of the war at once, drawing up his

army upon the shore of the ocean, with his ballistæ and other engines of

war, whilst nobody could imagine what he intended to do, on a sudden

he commanded them to gather up the sea shells, and fill their helmets,

and the laps of their coats with them, calling them, “the spoils of the

ocean due to the Capitol and the Palatine.” As a monument of his success,

he raised a high tower, upon which he ordered lights to be put in the

night-time, for the direction of ships at sea; and then promising the

soldiers a donative of a hundred denarii a man, as if he had surpassed

the most eminent examples of generosity, “Go your ways,” said he, “and be

merry; go and be rich.”

Upon his applying himself to make preparations for his triumph, besides

prisoners and those who had deserted from the barbarians, he picked out

the men of greatest stature in all Gaul, such as he said were fittest for

a triumph, with some of the most considerable persons in the province,

and reserved them to grace the solemnity; obliging them not only to dye

their hair of a yellowish colour, and let it grow long, but to learn the

German language, and assume the names commonly used in that country.

He ordered likewise the galley in which he had entered the ocean, to

be carried a great part of the way to Rome by land, and wrote to the

collectors of his revenue in the city, “to make proper preparations for

a triumph against his arrival, at as small expense as possible; but such

a one, however, as had never been seen before, since they had full power

and authority to seize the estates of all men whatever.”

In person, Caligula was tall, of a pale complexion, ill shaped, his neck

and legs very slender, his eyes and temples hollow, his forehead broad

and grim, his hair thin, and about the crown quite decayed. The other

parts of his body were much covered with hair. On this account, it was

reckoned a capital crime for any person to look down from above, as he

was passing by, or so much as to name a goat. His countenance, which was

naturally hideous and frightful, he purposely rendered more so, forming

it by a glass into the most horrible contortions. He was crazy both in

body and mind, being subject when a boy to the falling sickness. When he

arrived at the age of manhood, he would endure fatigue tolerably well,

yet so that occasionally he was liable to a faintness, during which he

remained incapable of any effort, even for his own preservation. He was

not insensible of the disorder of his mind, and sometimes had thoughts of

retiring to purge his brain. It was believed that his wife Cæsonia had

administered to him a love-potion which threw him into a frenzy. What

most of all disordered him was want of sleep, for he seldom had more than

three or four hours’ rest in a night; and even then he slept not soundly,

but disturbed by strange dreams; fancying one time that the ocean spoke

to him. Being therefore often weary with lying awake so great a part of

the night, he would one while sit upon the bed, and another while walk in

the longest porticos about his house, and now and then invoke and look

out for the approach of day.

In his clothes, shoes, and other parts of his dress, he neither followed

the usage of his country, his sex, nor indeed any fashion suitable to a

human creature. He would often appear abroad dressed in an embroidered

coat set with jewels, in a tunic with sleeves, and with bracelets upon

his arms; sometimes all in silks and habited like a woman; at other times

in the _crepidæ_ or buskins; sometimes in a sort of shoes used by the

meaner soldiers, or those of women, and commonly with a golden beard

fixed to his chin, holding in his hand a thunderbolt, a trident, or a

caduceus, marks of distinction belonging to the Gods only. Sometimes too

he appeared in the dress of Venus. He wore very commonly the triumphal

dress, even before his expedition, and sometimes the breast-plate of

Alexander the Great, taken out of the vault where his body lay.

In respect of the liberal sciences, he was little conversant in

philology, but applied himself with assiduity to the study of eloquence,

being indeed in point of enunciation sufficiently elegant and ready; and

these qualities appeared most conspicuous when he happened to be in a

passion. In speaking, his action was vehement, and his voice so strong

that he was heard at a great distance. When he was about to harangue, he

threatened “the sword of his lucubration.” He so much despised a soft

smooth style that he said Seneca, who was then much admired, “wrote

only boyish declamations,” and that “his language was nothing else but

sand without lime.” When pleaders were successful in a cause, he often

wrote answers to their speeches; and would exercise himself in composing

accusations or vindications of eminent persons that were impeached

before the senate; and according to his success he would exasperate or

assuage the situation of the party by his vote in the house; inviting the

equestrian order, by proclamation, to hear him.

He likewise applied himself with alacrity to the practice of several

other arts, as fencing, riding the chariot, singing, and dancing. In the

first of these, he practised with the weapons used in fighting; and drove

the chariot in circuses built in several places. He was so extremely

fond of singing and dancing that he could not refrain in the theatre

from singing with the tragedians, and imitating the gestures of the

actors, either in the way of approbation or correction. A _pervigilium_

which he had ordered the day upon which he was slain was thought to be

intended for no other reason than to take the opportunity afforded by

the licentiousness of such a season to make his first appearance upon

the stage. Sometimes he danced likewise in the night. Sending once,

in the second watch of the night, for three men of consular rank, who

were under great apprehensions from the message, he placed them by the

stage, and then all of a sudden came bursting out, with a loud noise of

flutes and _Scabella_, dressed in a pella and tunic reaching down to his

heels. Having danced out a song, he retired. Yet he who had acquired such

dexterity in other exercises, could never swim.

Those for whom he once conceived a regard he favoured even to madness.

He used to kiss Mnester, the pantomimic, publicly in the theatre; and

if any person made the least noise while he was dancing, he would order

him to be dragged out of his seat and scourged him with his own hand.

A Roman knight once making some bustle, he sent him, by a centurion,

an order to go forthwith down to Ostia, and carry a letter from him to

King Ptolemy in Mauretania. The letter was comprised in these words: “Do

neither good nor harm to the bearer.” He made some gladiators captains of

his German guards. He took from the gladiators called Mirmillones some

of their arms. One Columbus coming off with victory in a combat, but

being slightly wounded, he ordered some poison to be infused into the

wound, which he thence called _Columbinum_. For thus it certainly was put

down with his own hand amongst other poisons. He was so extravagantly

fond of the party of charioteers that rode in green, that he supped and

lodged for some time constantly in the stable where their horses were

kept. At a certain revel he made a present of two millions of sesterces

to one Cythicus a driver of a chariot. The day before the Circensian

games, he used by his soldiers to enjoin silence in the neighbourhood,

that the repose of his horse Incitatus might not be disturbed. For this

favourite animal, besides a marble stable, an ivory manger, scarlet body

clothes, and a bracelet of jewels, he appointed a house, with a retinue

of slaves, and fine furniture, for the reception of such as were invited

in the horse’s name to sup with him. It is even said that he designed to

have made him consul.[c]

Such is the picture of this lunatic as Suetonius vividly paints it.

For four years the world bore his furious madness without by sedition

protesting against such a saturnalia of power. “How I wish,” said the

monster,“that the Roman people had only one head, so I could strike it

off at a blow.” The senate, however, grew tired of finding him victims,

and finally, as already mentioned, a prætorian tribune, Chærea, strangled

him.

Chærea was a republican. He and his friends thought that, after such

a prince, monarchical government had been sufficiently judged by

experience. The occasion now seemed favourable for the senate to resume

the power. It did so, and for three days deemed a republic assured. But

this was reckoning without either soldiers or people.

At the time of Caligula’s murder, Claudius, his uncle, who was with him,

had hidden in an obscure corner. A soldier found and showed him to his

comrades. Claudius begged for life. “Be our emperor,” they answered, and

as he trembled and could not walk, they carried him to their camp, where

he regained sufficient courage to harangue the troops, promising them

money (donativum). It was the price of an empire he paid, an unfortunate

innovation which amongst the soldiers had passed into law.

The senators, abandoned little by little, themselves hastened to greet

the new master. Chærea was sentenced to death. “Do you know how to kill?”

he asked the soldier charged to execute him. “Your sword is not well

ground perhaps. That which I used for Caligula would be better.”

CLAUDIUS (TIBERIUS CLAUDIUS DRUSUS CÆSAR), 41-54 A.D.

Claudius, brother to Germanicus and grandson to Livia, through his father

Drusus the first, was then fifty years old. During his youth he had been

continually ill, and in the royal household every one had neglected the

poor child, not daring to show him either to the people or the soldiers.

At last his existence was almost forgotten and at forty-six he was not

even a senator. He consoled himself by study and writing a history of

the Etruscans and Carthaginians. Caligula, who named him consul, brought

him a little more into prominence; the soldiers’ whim did the rest.

They gave him the empire, but could not do away with the effects of his

upbringing, that timidity, irresolution, and want of self-dependence

which resulted most disastrously, so that he often did evil with the very

best intentions. In his reign the real rulers were his wife, Messallina,

whose name is one with all debauchery and even with most repulsive

coarseness, and his freedmen Polybius, Narcissus, and Pallas. [At least

they exercised an undue influence over him.]

Claudius began well. He revoked the acts of Caligula, had the Augustan

laws sworn to, and recalled the banished. Naturally kind-hearted, he

easily adopted the manners that had contributed to the popularity of the

first emperor. He visited his sick friends, consulting the consuls and

the senate as if he were quite dependent on their favour. He liked to

act as judge and often did it very well. Unfortunately, his undignified

bearing, his shaking head, stammering and often ridiculous speech made

him of very little account. He re-established the censorship and often

exercised it himself, but rather with the tastes of an antiquarian loving

old customs than with a sense of the real needs of the empire.

In spite of these oddities and weaknesses, this prince, without regarding

the examples of infamy and crime given by his surroundings, can hardly

be counted among the worst emperors. The freedmen whom long power had

not yet spoiled sought to justify their influence by good service,

and we find what we should hardly have expected--namely, several wise

measures with regard to slaves in the interior; against too greedy

advocates, usurers, and those banished from the provinces who flocked

to Rome, etc. Moreover, there were useful works: an aqueduct, a port at

Ostia, an attempt to drain Lake Fucinus, etc. In the provinces a liberal

administration and a firm foreign policy were crowned by success.

Augustus had wished to constitute a Roman minority in the midst of the

submissive nations which would prove a support to the government. But it

was to govern always in Rome’s interests. A futile effort, because he

was aiming at nothing less than arresting the course of the world, as

if the emperors could have continued an aristocracy against which they

had contended in the battles of Pharsalia, Thapsus, and Philippi. In his

will Augustus had advised a careful guarding of civic privilege, and in

the short space of thirty-four months, the number of citizens had nearly

doubled. Tiberius aided much in this increase. Claudius also contributed

largely, because he made the law of continuous extension and progressive

assimilation, which had made the fortune of the republic, a rule of

policy. He personally asked that the nobles of _Gallia Comata_, who had

long been citizens, should also assume Roman dignities and have a seat in

the senate.

[Illustration: THE EMPEROR CLAUDIUS

(From a bust in the Vatican)]

Only one religious provincial sect was persecuted under Claudius--that of

the Druids, because their priests refused the peace offered by Augustus

on condition of their uniting their gods to the Olympian deities.

Claudius tried, therefore, to abolish their worship, and punished with

death both priests and their adherents.[b]

In the interior parts of Britain, the natives, under the command of

Caractacus, maintained an obstinate resistance, and little progress was

made by the Roman arms, until Ostorius Scapula was sent over to prosecute

the war. He penetrated into the country of the Silures, a warlike tribe

who inhabited the banks of the Severn; and having defeated Caractacus in

a great battle, made him prisoner, and sent him to Rome (50 A.D.). The

fame of the British prince had by this time spread over the provinces of

Gaul and Italy; and upon his arrival in the Roman capital, the people

flocked from all quarters to behold him. The ceremonial of his entrance

was conducted with great solemnity. On a plain adjoining to the Roman

camp, the prætorian troops were drawn up in martial array; the emperor

and his court took their station in the front of the lines, and behind

them was ranged the whole body of the people. The procession commenced

with the different trophies which had been taken from the Britons during

the progress of the war. Next followed the brothers of the vanquished

prince, with his wife and daughter, in chains, expressing by their

supplicating looks and gestures the fears with which they were actuated.

But not so Caractacus himself. With a manly gait and an undaunted

countenance, he marched up to the tribunal, where the emperor was seated,

and addressed him in the following terms:

“If to my birth, and distinguished rank, I had added the virtues of

moderation, Rome had beheld me rather as a friend than a captive; and

you would not have rejected an alliance with a prince descended from

illustrious ancestors, and governing many nations. The reverse of my

fortune to you is glorious, and to me humiliating. I had arms, and men,

and horses; I possessed extraordinary riches; and can it be any wonder

that I was unwilling to lose them? Because Rome aspires to universal

dominion, must men therefore implicitly resign themselves to subjection?

I opposed for a long time the progress of your arms, and had I acted

otherwise, would either you have had the glory of conquest, or I of a

brave resistance? I am now in your power; if you are determined to take

revenge, my fate will soon be forgotten, and you will derive no honour

from the transaction. Preserve my life, and I shall remain to the latest

ages a monument of your clemency.”

Immediately upon this speech, Claudius granted him his liberty, as he did

likewise to the other royal captives. They all returned their thanks, in

a manner the most grateful to the emperor; and as soon as their chains

were taken off, walking towards Agrippina, who sat upon a bench at a

little distance, they repeated to her the same fervent declarations of

gratitude and esteem.

History has preserved no account of Caractacus after this period; but it

is probable that he returned in a short time to his own country, where

his former valour, and the magnanimity which he had displayed at Rome,

would continue to render him illustrious through life, even amidst the

irretrievable ruin of his fortunes.[c]

In Germany a successful expedition had restored to the Romans the last

of the eagles of Varus. But Claudius, practising on this side Tiberian

politics, busied himself particularly in taking up a strong position

on the Rhine and winning barbarian chiefs to the interests of Rome. He

succeeded so well that in 47 the Cherusci came to him, asking for a king.

Corbulo, the greatest general of this time, wanted to carry out the

plans of the first Drusus against the Germans. He subdued the Frisians

and attacked the Chauci. Claudius stayed his advance. “Happy were the

old Roman consuls!” said the ambitious general as he obeyed. In order

at least to occupy his soldiers he had a canal dug from the Meuse to

the Rhine, another leader made his men open the mines. Everywhere these

useful works were now demanded from the troops.

On the Danube peace was undisturbed. In Thrace various troubles made

Claudius intervene and reduce the country to a province. In the Bosporus,

a king deposed by him took arms, was conquered, and gave himself up. In

the East the emperor had the glory of reconquering Armenia and giving a

king to the Parthians. Unfortunately these successes did not continue;

the Roman candidate to the throne of the Arsacidæ was overthrown and for

some time Vologeses kept the Armenian crown on the head of his brother

Tiridates.

Lycia made bad use of her liberty, so Claudius took it away, and the

Jewish king, Agrippa, dying in 44, he united Palestine to the government

of Syria. In Africa, Suetonius Paulinus and Geta subdued the Moors, whose

country formed two provinces--the Mauretania Cæsariensis and Mauretania

Tingitana.

The emperor now lacked neither military nor political glory. Mauretania

and the half of Britain were conquered; the Germans coerced, the Bosporus

reduced to obedience; Thrace, Lycia, and Judea made provinces, and the

Parthian troubles long since smoothed over. Within the empire there was

growing prosperity; the army was well disciplined and its activity was

directed to the public welfare under the direction of generals grown old

in command. Certainly, results everywhere were sufficient to gratify the

pride of a prince. It is with regret that we have to turn to Rome to see

nobles whose only occupation was conspiracy or base flattery--and to that

imperial palace which was disgraced by a weak prince and his immoral

wife, the shameless Messallina.[b] The misdeeds of the latter will now

claim our attention. Let Tacitus draw her portrait:

THE MISDEEDS OF MESSALLINA DESCRIBED BY TACITUS

The facility of ordinary adulteries having produced satiety, Messallina

broke forth into unheard-of excesses; when even Silius, her paramour,

whether impelled by some fatal infatuation, or judging that the dangers

hanging over him were only to be averted by boldly confronting them,

urged that all disguises should now be renounced, for matters, he

said, were gone too far for them to wait for the death of the emperor;

blameless counsels were for the innocent, but in glaring guilt safety

must be sought in reckless daring. They were backed by accomplices who

dreaded the same doom. As for himself, he was single, childless, ready

to marry her, and to adopt Britannicus: to Messallina would still remain

her present power; with the addition of security, if they anticipated

Claudius; who, as he was unguarded against the approaches of stratagem,

so was he headstrong and impetuous when provoked to anger. These

suggestions were but coldly received by Messallina; from no love to her

husband; but lest Silius, when he had gained the sovereignty, should

scorn his adulteress; and the treason, which in his present perilous

predicament he approved, would then be estimated according to its real

desert. She, however, coveted the name of matrimony, from the greatness

of the infamy attaching to it; which, with those who are prodigal of

fame, forms the crowning gratification of depraved appetite. Nor stayed

she longer than till Claudius went to Ostia, to assist at a sacrifice;

when she celebrated her nuptials with Silius, with all the usual

solemnities.

I am aware [Tacitus continues] that it will appear fabulous that any

human beings should have exhibited such recklessness of consequences;

and that, in a city where everything was known and talked of, any one,

much more a consul elect, should have met the emperor’s wife, on a

stated day, in the presence of persons called in, to seal the deeds,

as for the purpose of procreation, and that she should have heard the

words of the augurs, entered the house of the husband, sacrificed to the

gods, sat down among the guests at the nuptial banquet, exchanged kisses

and embraces, and in fine passed the night in unrestrained conjugal

intercourse. But I would not dress up my narrative with fictions to give

it an air of marvel, rather than relate what has been stated to me or

written by my seniors.

The consequence was that the domestic circle of the prince was

horror-struck; especially those who had the chief sway, and who dreaded

the result, if the state of things should be changed, no longer confined

themselves to secret communications, but exclaimed with undisguised

indignation that while the emperor’s bedchamber was made the theatre for

a stage-player to dance upon, a reproach was indeed incurred, but the

immediate dissolution of the state was not now threatened: a young man

of noble rank, of fascinating person, mental vigour, and just entering

upon the consulship, was addressing himself to higher objects; nor was it

any enigma what remained to be done after such a marriage. It is true,

when they reflected on the stupidity of Claudius, his blind attachment to

his wife, and the many lives sacrificed to her fury, they were unable to

divest themselves of apprehensions; again, even the passive spirit of the

emperor revived their confidence; that, if they could first possess him

with the horrid blackness of her crimes, she might be despatched without

trial. But the danger turned upon this--that she might make a defence;

and that even if she confessed her guilt, the emperor might be deaf to

that evidence also.

But first it was deliberated by Callistus, whom, in relating the

assassination of Caligula, I have already mentioned; by Narcissus,

who plotted the murder of Appius; and by Pallas, then the reigning

favourite, whether, feigning ignorance of all other circumstances, they

should compel Messallina to break off her amour with Silius by secret

menaces; but they afterwards abandoned this project from fear lest they

should themselves be dragged to execution as culprits. Pallas was faint

hearted; and Callistus, a courtier in the last reign also, had learned by

experience that power was secured more effectually by wary measures than

by daring counsels. Narcissus persisted; with this difference only, that

he took care not to let fall a word by which she might know beforehand

the charge against her or her accuser; and watching all occasions, while

the emperor lingered at Ostia, he prevailed with two courtesans, who were

the chief mistresses of Claudius, to undertake the task of laying the

matter before him, by means of presents and promises, and by representing

to them in attractive colours that by the fall of his wife their own

influence would be increased.

Calpurnia therefore, for that was the name of the courtesan, upon the

first occasion of privacy, falling at the emperor’s feet, exclaimed, that

Messallina had married Silius; and at the same time asked Cleopatra,

who purposely attended to attest it, whether she had not found it to be

true. Claudius, upon a confirmation from Cleopatra, ordered Narcissus

to be called. He, when he came, begged pardon for his past conduct in

having concealed from the prince her adulteries while they were limited

to the Vectii and Plautii; nor meant he now, he said, to charge Silius

with adulteries; nor urge that he should restore the house, the slaves,

and the other decorations of imperial fortune: the adulterer might still

enjoy these; let him only break the nuptial tables, and restore the

emperor’s wife. “Know you, Cæsar, that you are in a state of divorce? In

the face of the people, and senate, and soldiery, Messallina has espoused

Silius; and unless you act with despatch, her husband is master of Rome.”

He then sent for his most confidential friends, particularly for

Turranius, superintendent of the stores; next for Lusius Geta, captain of

the prætorian guards; and inquired of them. As they avouched it, the rest

beset him with clamorous importunities, that he should forthwith proceed

to the camp, secure the prætorian cohorts, and consult his preservation

before his revenge. It is certain that Claudius was so confounded and

panic-stricken that he was incessantly asking whether he were still

emperor--whether Silius was still a private man.

As to Messallina, she never wallowed in greater voluptuousness; it

was then the middle of autumn, and in her house she exhibited a

representation of the vintage; the wine-presses were plied, the wine

vats flowed, and round them danced women begirt with skins, like

Bacchanalians at their sacrifices, or under the maddening inspiration

of their deity. She herself, with her hair loose and flowing, waved a

thyrsus; by her side Silius, crowned with ivy, and wearing buskins,

tossed his head about; while around them danced the wanton choir in

obstreperous revelry. It is reported that Vectius Valens, having in

a frolic climbed to an exceeding high tree, when asked what he saw,

answered, “A terrible storm from Ostia.”

[Illustration: MESSALLINA

(From a portrait bust)]

It was now no longer vague rumour; but messengers poured in on all sides

with tidings that Claudius, apprised of all, had approached, bent upon

instant vengeance. They separated; Messallina betook herself to the

gardens of Lucullus, and Silius, to dissemble his fear, resumed the

offices of the Forum. As the rest were slipping off different ways, the

centurions came up with them and bound them, some in the street, others

in lurking-places, according as each was found. Messallina, however,

though in her distress incapable of deliberation, formed the bold

resolution of meeting her husband, and presenting herself to his view--an

expedient which had often proved her protection. She likewise ordered

that Britannicus and Octavia should go forth and embrace their father;

and besought Vibidia, the oldest vestal, to intercede with the chief

pontiff, and earnestly importune his clemency. She herself meanwhile

traversed on foot the whole extent of the city, attended only by three

persons (so suddenly had her whole train forsaken her), and then, in a

cart employed to carry out dirt from the gardens, took the road to Ostia,

unpitied by anyone, as the deformity of her crimes overpowered every

feeling of the kind.

Claudius was in a state of no less trepidation; for he could not

implicitly rely on Geta, the captain of his guards--an equally fickle

instrument of fraud or honesty. Narcissus therefore, in concert with

those who entertained the same mistrust, assured the emperor, that there

was no other expedient to preserve him than the transferring the command

of his guards to one of his freedmen, for that day only; and offered

himself to undertake it. And, that Lucius Vitellius and Publius Largus

Cæcina might not on his way to the city prevail with Claudius to relent,

he desired to have a seat in the same vehicle, and took it.

It was afterwards currently reported that, while the emperor was giving

expression to the opposite feelings which agitated his breast, at one

time inveighing against the atrocities of his wife, and then at length

recurring to the recollection of conjugal intercourse and the tender

age of his children, Vitellius uttered nothing but “Oh! the villainy!

Oh! the treason!” Narcissus indeed pressed him to discard all ambiguity

of expression, and let them know his real sentiments; but he did not

therefore prevail upon him to give any other than indecisive answers,

and such as would admit of any interpretation which might be put upon

them; and his example was followed by Largus Cæcina. And now Messallina

was in sight, and importunately called on the emperor “to hear the

mother of Octavia and Britannicus,” when her accuser drowned her cries

with the story of Silius and the marriage, and delivered at the same

time to Claudius a memorial reciting all her whoredoms; to divert him

from beholding her. Soon after, as the emperor was entering Rome, it was

attempted to present to him his children by her; but Narcissus ordered

them to be taken away. He could not, however, prevent Vibidia from

insisting, with earnest remonstrances, that he would not deliver his

wife to destruction without a hearing; so that Narcissus was obliged to

assure her that the prince would hear Messallina, who should have full

opportunity of clearing herself; and advised the vestal to retire and

attend the solemnities of her goddess.

The silence of Claudius, while all this was going on, was matter of

astonishment. Vitellius seemed like one who was not in the secret:

the freedman controlled everything; by his command, the house of the

adulterer was opened, and the emperor escorted thither, where the first

thing he showed him was the statue of Silius, the father, in the porch,

though it had been decreed to be demolished by the senate; then that all

the articles belonging to the Neros and Drusi had now become the price

of dishonour. Thus incensed, and breaking forth into menaces, he led him

direct to the camp, where the soldiers being already assembled, by the

direction of Narcissus, he made them a short speech; for shame prevented

his giving utterance to his indignation, though he had just cause for it.

The soldiers then clamoured unremittingly and importunately that the

culprits should be tried and punished. Silius was placed before the

tribunal; he made no defence, he sought no delay, but begged only to be

despatched immediately. Illustrious Roman knights also, with similar

firmness of mind, were eager for a speedy death. He therefore commanded

Titius Proculus, assigned by Silius as a guard to Messallina; Vectius

Valens, who confessed his guilt, and offered to discover others, Pompeius

Ubicus and Saufellus Trogus, as accomplices, to be all dragged to

execution. On Decius Calpurnianus too, præfect of the watch; Sulpicius

Rufus, comptroller of the games; and Juncus Vergilianus, the senator, the

same punishment was inflicted.

Mnester alone caused some hesitation. He tore off his clothes and called

upon the emperor to behold upon his body the impressions of the lash;

to remember his own commands, obliging him to submit to the pleasure of

Messallina without reserve: others had been tempted to the iniquity by

great presents or aspiring hopes; but his offence was forced upon him.

Nor would any man have sooner perished had Silius gained the sovereignty.

These considerations affected Claudius, and strongly inclined him to

mercy; but his freedmen overruled him. They urged that after so many

illustrious sacrifices, he should by no means think of saving a player;

that in a crime of such enormity, it mattered not whether he had

committed it from choice or necessity. As little effect had the defence

even of Traulus Montanus, a youth of signal modesty and remarkably

handsome, summoned by Messallina to her bed without any solicitation

on his part, and in one night cast off; such was the wantonness with

which her passion was alike surfeited and inflamed. The lives of Suilius

Cæsoninus and Plautius Lateranus were spared; of the last, on account of

the noble exploits of his uncle: the other was protected by his vices, as

one who, in the late abominable society, had prostituted himself like a

woman.

Meanwhile Messallina was in the gardens of Lucullus, still striving to

prolong her life, and composing supplications to the prince, sometimes

in the language of hope, at others giving vent to rage and resentment,

so indomitable was her insolence even under the immediate prospect

of death. And had not Narcissus hastened her assassination, the doom

which he had prepared for her would have recoiled upon himself. For

Claudius, upon his return home, experienced a mitigation of his wrath,

from the effects of a sumptuous repast; and as soon as he became warm

with wine, he ordered them “to go and acquaint the miserable woman (for

this was the appellation which he is said to have used) that to-morrow

she should attend and plead her cause.” These words indicated that his

resentment was abating, his wonted affection returning; besides, if they

delayed, the effect of the following night, and the reminiscences which

the conjugal chamber might awaken in Claudius, were matter for alarm.

Narcissus therefore rushed forth, and directed the tribune and centurions

then attending upon duty to despatch the execution, for such, he said,

was the emperor’s command. With them he sent Euodus of the freedmen, as

a watch upon them, and to see his orders strictly fulfilled. Euodus flew

before them to the gardens, and found her lying along upon the earth;

her mother, Lepida, sitting by her side--who during her prosperity had

not lived in harmony with her, but, in this her extreme necessity, was

overcome by compassion for her, and now persuaded her not to wait for the

executioner: “the course of her life was run, and her only object now

should be to die becomingly.” But a mind sunk and corrupted by debauchery

retained no sense of honour; she was giving way to bootless tears and

lamentations when from the shock of the approaching party the door flew

open: the tribune stood in silence before her; but the freedman upbraided

her with many and insolent reproaches, characteristic of the slave.

Then for the first time she became deeply sensible of her condition, and

laying hold of the steel, applied it first to her throat, then to her

breast, with trembling and irresolute hand, when the tribune ran her

through. Her corpse was granted to her mother. Tidings were then carried

to Claudius that Messallina was no more, without distinguishing whether

by her own or another’s hand; neither did he inquire, but called for a

cup of wine, and proceeded in the usual ceremonies of the feast. Nor did

he, indeed, during the following days, manifest any symptom of disgust or

joy, of resentment or sorrow, nor, in short, of any human affection; not

when he beheld the accusers of his wife exulting at her death, not when

he looked upon her mourning children. The senate aided in effacing her

from his memory, by decreeing that from all public and private places

her name should be rased, and her images removed. To Narcissus were

decreed the decorations of the quæstorship; a very small reward indeed,

considering his towering elevation; for he was more influential than

Pallas and Callistus.[d]

THE INTRIGUES OF AGRIPPINA

[Sidenote: [48-49 A.D.]]

The freedmen now had the task of selecting another wife for their feeble

prince, who was not capable of leading a single life, and who was sure

to be governed by the successful candidate. The principal women in Rome

were ambitious for the honour of sharing the bed of the imperial idiot,

but the claims of all were forced to yield to those of Lollia Paulina,

the former wife of Caligula, Julia Agrippina the daughter of Germanicus,

and Ælia Petina, Claudius’ own divorced wife. The first was patronised

by Callistus, the second by Pallas, the last by Narcissus. Agrippina,

however, in consequence of her frequent access to her uncle, easily

triumphed over her rivals; the only difficulty that presented itself

was that of a marriage between uncle and niece being contrary to Roman

manners, and being even regarded as incestuous. This difficulty, however,

the compliant L. Vitellius, who was then censor, undertook to remove.

He addressed the senate, stating the necessity of a domestic partner

to a prince who had on him such weighty public cares. He then launched

forth in praise of Agrippina; as to the objection of the nearness of

kindred, such unions he said were practised among other nations, and

at one time first-cousins did not use to marry, while now they did so

commonly. The servile assembly outran the speaker in zeal; they rushed

out of the house, and a promiscuous rabble collected, shouting that such

was the wish of the Roman people. Claudius repaired to the senate house,

and caused a decree to be made legalising marriages between uncles and

nieces, and he then formally espoused Agrippina. Yet such was the light

in which the incestuous union was viewed that, corrupt as the Roman

character was become, only two persons were found to follow the imperial

example.

Agrippina also proposed to unite her son Domitius with Octavia the

daughter of Claudius; but here there was a difficulty also, for Octavia

was betrothed to L. Silanus. Again, however, she found a ready tool in

the base Vitellius, to whose son Julia Calvina, the sister of Silanus,

had been married. As the brother and sister indulged their affection

imprudently, though not improperly, the worthy censor took the occasion

to make a charge of incest against Silanus, and to strike him out of the

list of senators. Claudius then broke off the match, and Silanus put an

end to himself on the very day of Agrippina’s marriage. His sister was

banished, and Claudius ordered some ancient rites expiatory of incest to

be performed, unconscious of the application of them which would be made

to himself.

The woman, who had now obtained the government of Claudius and the Roman

Empire, was of a very different character from the abandoned Messallina.

The latter had nothing noble about her, she was the mere bondslave of

lust, and cruel and avaricious only for its gratification; but Agrippina

was a woman of superior mind, though utterly devoid of principle. In her,

lust was subservient to ambition; it was the desire of power or the fear

of death, and not wantonness, that made her submit to the incestuous

embraces of her brutal brother Caligula, and to be prostituted to the

companions of his vices. It was ambition and parental love that made

her now form an incestuous union with her uncle. To neither of her

husbands, Cn. Domitius or Crispus Passienus, does she appear to have been

voluntarily unfaithful. The bed of Claudius was, however, not fated to be

unpolluted; for as a means of advancing her views, Agrippina formed an

illicit connection with Pallas.

[Sidenote: [49-54 A.D.]]

The great object of Agrippina was to exclude Britannicus, and obtain the

succession for her own son Nero Domitius, now a boy of twelve years of

age. She therefore caused Octavia to be betrothed to him, and she had

the philosopher Seneca recalled from Corsica, whither he had been exiled

by the arts of Messallina, and committed to him the education of her

son, that he might be fitted for empire. In the following year Claudius,

yielding to her influence, adopted him.

[Illustration: RUINS OF THE AQUEDUCT OF CLAUDIUS]

In order to bring Nero forward, Agrippina caused him to assume the

virile toga before the usual age, and the servile senate desired of

Claudius that he might be consul at the age of twenty, and meantime be

elect with proconsular power without the city. A donative was given to

the soldiers, and a congiary (congiarium) to the people in his name.

At the Circensian games, given to gain the people, Nero appeared in

the triumphal habit; Britannicus in a simple _prætexta_. Every one who

showed any attachment to this poor youth was removed on one pretence or

another, and he was surrounded with the creatures of Agrippina. Finally,

as the two commanders of the guards were supposed to be attached to the

interests of the children of Messallina, she persuaded Claudius that

their discipline would be much improved if they were placed under one

commander. Accordingly those officers were removed, and the command was

given to Burrus Afranius, a man of high character for probity and of

great military reputation, and who knew to whom he was indebted for his

elevation.

The pride and haughtiness of Agrippina far transcended anything that Rome

had as yet witnessed in a woman. When the British prince Caractacus and

his family, whom P. Ostorius had sent captives to the emperor, were led

before him as he sat on his tribunal in the plain under the prætorian

camp, with all the troops drawn out, Agrippina appeared seated on another

tribunal, as the partner of his power. And again, when the letting off

of the Fucine Lake was celebrated with a naval combat, she presided with

him, habited in a military cloak of cloth of gold.

Agrippina at length grew weary of delay, or fearful of discovery.

Narcissus, who saw at what she was aiming, appeared resolved to exert all

his influence in favour of Britannicus; and Claudius himself, one day

when he was drunk, was heard to say that it was his fate to bear with

the infamy of his wives and then to punish it. He had also begun to show

peculiar marks of affection for Britannicus. She therefore resolved to

act without delay.[e]

TACITUS DESCRIBES THE MURDER OF CLAUDIUS

[Sidenote: [54 A.D.]]

Claudius was attacked with illness, and for the recovery of his health

had recourse to the soft air and salubrious waters of Sinuessa. It

was then that Agrippina, long since bent upon the impious deed, and

eagerly seizing the present occasion, well furnished too as she was

with wicked agents, deliberated upon the nature of the poison she would

use: whether, if it were sudden and instantaneous in its operation,

the desperate achievement would not be brought to light; if she chose

materials slow and consuming in their operation, whether Claudius, when

his end approached, and perhaps having discovered the treachery, would

not resume his affection for his son. Something of a subtle nature was

resolved upon, “such as would disorder his brain and require time to

kill.” An experienced artist in such preparations was chosen, her name

Locusta; lately condemned for poisoning, and long reserved as one of the

instruments of ambition. By this woman’s skill the poison was prepared;

to administer it was assigned to Halotus, one of the eunuchs, whose

office it was to serve up the emperor’s repasts, and prove the viands by

tasting them.

In fact, all the particulars of this transaction were soon afterwards

so thoroughly known that the writers of those times are able to recount

how the poison was poured into a dish of mushrooms, of which he was

particularly fond; but whether it was that his senses were stupefied, or

from the wine he had drunk, the effect of the poison was not immediately

perceived; at the same time a relaxation of the intestines seemed to

have been of service to him. Agrippina therefore became dismayed; but as

her life was at stake, she thought little of the odium of her present

proceedings, and called in the aid of Xenophon the physician, whom she

had already implicated in her guilty purposes. It is believed that he,

as if he purposed to assist Claudius in his efforts to vomit, put down

his throat a feather besmeared with deadly poison; not unaware that in

desperate villainies the attempt without the deed is perilous, while to

ensure the reward they must be done effectually at once.

The senate was in the meantime assembled, and the consuls and pontiffs

were offering vows for the recovery of the emperor, when, already dead,

he was covered with clothes and warm applications, to hide it till

matters were arranged for securing the empire to Nero. First there was

Agrippina, who, feigning to be overpowered with grief and anxiously

seeking for consolation, clasped Britannicus in her arms, called him

“the very model of his father,” and by various artifices withheld him

from leaving the chamber. She likewise detained Antonia and Octavia, his

sisters, and had closely guarded all the approaches to the palace: from

time to time too she gave out that the prince was on the mend, that the

soldiery might entertain hopes till the auspicious moment, predicted by

the calculations of the astrologers, should arrive.

At last, on the thirteenth day of October, at noon, the gates of the

palace were suddenly thrown open, and Nero, accompanied by Burrus, went

forth to the cohort, which, according to the custom of the army, was

keeping watch. There, upon a signal made by the præfect, he was received

with shouts of joy, and instantly put into a litter. It was reported that

there were some who hesitated, looking back anxiously, and frequently

asking where Britannicus was, but as no one came forward to oppose it,

they embraced the choice which was offered them. Thus Nero was borne

to the camp, where, after a speech suitable to the exigency, and the

promise of a largess equal to that of the late emperor his father, he was

saluted emperor. The voice of the soldiers was followed by the decrees

of the senate; nor was there any hesitation in the several provinces.

To Claudius were decreed divine honours, and his funeral obsequies were

solemnised with the same pomp as those of the deified Augustus; Agrippina

emulating the magnificence of her great-grandmother Livia. His will,

however, was not rehearsed, lest the preference of the son of his wife

to his own son might excite the minds of the people by its injustice and

baseness.[d]

THE CHARACTER OF CLAUDIUS

We meet with more than one instance in the imperial history of the

parents suffering for the sins of their children. We have already seen

how much reason there is to believe that the hatred of the Romans to

Tiberius disposed them readily to accept any calumny against Livia.

Tiberius himself was hated the more for the crimes of his successor

Caius; and there is ground to surmise that much of the odium which has

attached to Claudius is reflected from the horror with which Nero came

afterwards to be regarded. Thus did the Romans avenge themselves on the

authors of the principle of hereditary succession so long unknown to

their polity, and known at last so disadvantageously.

Of Claudius, at least, a feeling of compassion, if not of justice, may

incline us to pronounce with more indulgence than has usually been

accorded to him. He was an imitator, as we have seen, of Augustus,

but only as the silver age might parody the golden; for the manners

he sought to revive, and the sentiments he pretended to regenerate,

had not been blighted by the passing tempest of civil war, but were

naturally decaying from the over-ripeness of age. Nevertheless, it was

honourable to admire a noble model; there was some generosity even in

the attempt to rival the third founder of the state. Nor, in fact, does

any period of Roman history exhibit more outward signs of vigorous and

successful administration: none was more fertile in victories or produced

more gallant commanders or excellent soldiers; domestic affairs were

prosperously conducted; the laborious industry of the emperor himself

tired out all his ministers and assistants. The senate recovered some

portion of its authority, and, with authority, of courage and energy.

Claudius secured respect for letters, in an age of show and sensuality,

by his personal devotion to them. From some of the worst vices of his age

and class he was remarkably exempt. His gluttony, if we must believe

the stories told of it, was countenanced at least by many high examples;

his cruelty, or rather his callous insensibility, was the result of the

perverted training which made human suffering a sport to the master of

a single slave, as well as to the emperor on the throne; and it was

never aggravated at least by wanton caprice or ungovernable passion. The

contempt which has been thrown upon his character and understanding has

been generated, in a great degree, by the systematic fabrications of

which he has been made the victim. Though flattered with a lip-worship

which seems to our notions incredible, Claudius appears to have risen

personally above its intoxicating vapours; we know that, in one instance

at least, the fulsome adulation of a man, the most remarkable of his age

for eloquence and reputed wisdom, failed to turn the course whether of

his justice or his anger.

THE LIVING CLAUDIUS EULOGISED BY SENECA

The circumstances of this adulation, and of its disappointment, it is

due to the memory of Claudius to detail. We have no distinct account of

the cause of Seneca’s banishment, which is ascribed, by little better

than a guess, to the machinations of Messallina against the friends

and adherents of Julia. However this may be, we have seen with what

impatience the philosopher bore it. On the occasion of the death of a

brother of Polybius, he addressed a treatise from his place of exile to

the still powerful freedman, such as was styled a “consolation,” in which

he set forth all the arguments which wit and friendship could suggest

to alleviate his affliction and fortify his wisdom. After assuring him

of the solemn truth that all men are mortal, and reminding him that

this world itself, with all that it contains, is subject to the common

law of dissolution; that man is born to sorrow; that the dead can have

no pleasure in his grief; that his grief at the best is futile and

unprofitable; he diverts him with another topic which is meant to be

still more effectual. “The emperor,” he says, “is divine, and those

who are blessed by employment in his service, and have him ever before

their eyes, can retain no idle interest in human things; their happy

souls neither fear nor sorrow can enter; the divinity is with them and

around them. Me,” he declares, “this god has not overthrown; rather he

has supported when others supplanted me; he still suffers me to remain

for a monument of his providence and compassion. Whether my cause be

really good or bad, his justice will at last pronounce it good, or his

clemency will so regard it. Meanwhile, it is my comfort to behold his

pardons travelling through the world; even from the corner where I am

cast away his mercy has called forth many an exile before me. One day the

eyes of his compassion will alight on me also. Truly those thunderbolts

are just which the thunderstricken have themselves learned to adore. May

the immortals long indulge him to the world! May he rival the deeds of

Augustus and exceed his years! While still resident among us, may death

never cross his threshold! Distant be the day, and reserved for the tears

of our grandchildren, when his divine progenitors demand him for the

heavens which are his own.”

[Illustration: HADRIAN

(FROM THE STATUE IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM)]

Such were the phrases, sonorous and unctuously polished, which Polybius

was doubtless expected to recite in the ears of the imperial pedant.

Standing high as he still did in the favour of Claudius and Messallina,

he had the means, and was perhaps not without the will, to recommend

them with all his interest, and intercede in the flatterer’s behalf.

Yet Claudius, it would seem, remained wholly unmoved by a worship more

vehement than Ovid’s, and enhanced still more by the unquestioned

reputation of its author. Whatever had been the motives of his sentence

against Seneca, it was not by flattery that he could be swayed to reverse

it. Surely, as far as we are competent to judge, we must think the better

both of his firmness and his sense. Shortly afterwards Polybius was

himself subverted by the caprice of Messallina; Messallina in her turn

was overthrown by Agrippina; and it was not till the sister of Julia had

gained the ascendant that Seneca obtained at her instance the grace he

had vainly solicited through the good offices of the freedman.

THE DEAD CLAUDIUS SATIRISED BY SENECA

But however little Claudius may have relied on the sincerity of this

brilliant phrase-monger, he could scarce have anticipated the revulsion

of sentiment to which so ardent a worshipper would not blush to give

utterance on his demise. It was natural of course that the returned exile

should attach himself to his benefactress; from her hands he had received

his honours, by her he was treated with a confidence which flattered him.

No doubt he was among the foremost of the courtiers who deserted the

setting to adore the rising luminary. Yet few, perhaps, could believe

that no sooner should Claudius be dead, ere yet the accents of official

flattery had died away which proclaimed him entered upon the divine

career of his ancestors, than the worshipper of the living emperor should

turn his deification into ridicule, and blast his name with a slander of

unparalleled ferocity. There is no more curious fragment of antiquity

than the _Vision of Judgment_ which Seneca has left us on the death and

deification of Claudius.

[Illustration: “SENECA”

(From a bust in the Naples Museum)]

The traveller who has visited modern Rome in the autumn season has

remarked the numbers of unwieldy and bloated gourds which sun their

speckled bellies before the doors, to form a favourite condiment to

the food of the poorer classes. When Claudius expired in the month of

October, his soul, according to the satirist, long lodged in the inflated

emptiness of his own swollen carcass, migrated by an easy transition

into a kindred pumpkin. The senate declared that he had become a god;

but Seneca knew that he was only transformed into a gourd. The senate

decreed his divinity, Seneca translated it into pumpkinity; and proceeded

to give a burlesque account of what may be supposed to have happened

in heaven on the appearance of the new aspirant to celestial honours.

A tall gray-haired figure has arrived halting at the gates of Olympus;

he mops and mows, and shakes his palsied head, and when asked whence

he comes and what is his business, mutters an uncouth jargon in reply

which none can understand. Jupiter sends Hercules to interrogate the

creature, for Hercules is a travelled god, and knows many languages; but

Hercules himself, bold and valiant as he is, shudders at the sight of a

strange unearthly monster, with the hoarse inarticulate moanings of a

seal or sea-calf. He fancied that he saw his thirteenth labour before

him. Presently, on a nearer view, he discovers that it is a sort of man.

Accordingly he takes courage to address him with a verse from Homer,

the common interpreter of gods and men; and Claudius, rejoicing at the

sound of Greek, and auguring that his own histories will be understood in

heaven, replies with an apt quotation.

To pass over various incidents which are next related, and the gibes of

the satirist on the Gaulish origin of Claudius, and his zeal in lavishing

the franchise on Gauls and other barbarians, we find the gods assembled

in conclave to deliberate on the pretensions of their unexpected visitor.

Certain of the deities rise in their places, and express themselves with

divers exquisite reasons in his favour; and his admission is about to be

carried with acclamation, when Augustus starts to his feet (for the first

time, as he calls them all to witness, since he became a god himself--for

Augustus in heaven is reserved and silent, and keeps strictly to his

own affairs), and recounts the crimes and horrors of his grandchild’s

career. He mentions the murder of his father-in-law Silanus, and his two

sons-in-law Silanus and Pompeius, and the father-in-law of his daughter,

and the mother-in-law of the same, of his wife Messallina, and of others

more than can be named.

The gods are struck with amazement and indignation. Claudius is repelled

from the threshold of Olympus, and led by Mercury to the shades below.

As he passes along the Via Sacra he witnesses the pageant of his own

obsequies, and then first apprehends the fact of his decease. He

hears the funeral dirge in which his actions are celebrated in most

grandiloquent sing-song, descending at last to the abruptest bathos. But

the satirist can strike a higher note; the advent of the ghost to the

infernal regions is described with a sublime irony. “Claudius is come!”

shout the spirits of the dead, and at once a vast multitude assemble

around him, exclaiming, with the chant of the priests of Apis, “We have

found him, we have found him; rejoice and be glad!”[17] Among them was

Silius the consul and Junius the prætor and Traulus and Trogus and

Cotta, Vectius, and Fabius, Roman knights, whom Narcissus had done to

death. Then came the freedmen Polybius and Myron, Harpocras, Amphæus,

and Pheronactes, whom Claudius had despatched to hell before him, that

he might have his ministers below. Next advanced Catonius and Rufus,

the prefects, and his friends Lusius and Pedo, and Lupus and Celer,

consulars, and finally a number of his own kindred, his wife and cousins

and son-in-law. “Friends everywhere!” simpered the fool; “pray how came

you all here?” “How came we here?” thundered Pompeius Pedo: “who sent us

here but thou, O murderer of all thy friends?” And thereupon the newcomer

is hurried away before the judgment seat of Æacus. An old boon companion

offers to plead for him; Æacus, most just of men, forbids, and condemns

the criminal, one side only heard. “As he hath done,” he exclaims, “so

shall he be done by.” The shades are astounded at the novelty of the

judgment; to Claudius it seems rather unjust than novel. Then the nature

of his punishment is considered. Some would relieve Tantalus or Ixion

from their torments and make the imperial culprit take their place; but

no, that would still leave him the hope of being himself in the course of

ages relieved. His pains must be never ending, still beginning; eternal

trifler and bungler that he was, he shall play for ever and ever with a

bottomless dice-box.

Such was the scorn which might be flung upon the head of a national

divinity, even though he were the adoptive father of the ruler of the

state; nor perhaps was the new and upstart deity much more cavalierly

treated than might sometimes be the lot of the established denizens of

Olympus. It is true that Nero at a later period thought fit to degrade

his parent from these excessive honours, and even demolished the

unfinished works of his temple on the Cælian Hill; but there is no reason

to suppose that Seneca reserved his spite until this catastrophe, or that

the prince evinced any marks of displeasure at the unrestrained laughter

with which doubtless his satire was greeted.

While the memory of the deceased emperor was thus ruthlessly torn

in pieces, the writer had been careful to exalt in terms the most

extravagant the anticipated glories of his successor; and the vain,

thoughtless heir perceived not that the mockery of his sire was the

deepest of insults to himself. Of the figure, accomplishments, and

character of Nero we shall speak more particularly hereafter; enough that

he was young, that he was not ungraceful in appearance, that he had some

talents, and, above all, the talent of exhibiting them.

With such qualifications the new occupant of a throne could never

want for flatterers. To sing them, the sage of the rugged countenance

mounts gaily on the wings of poetry, and sports in lines of mellifluous

mellowness, such as might grace the erotic lyre of the most callow

votary of the Muses. At last, he says, in mercy to his wretchedness, the

life-thread of the stolid Claudius had been severed by the fatal shears.

But Lachesis, at that moment, had taken in her hands another skein of

dazzling whiteness, and as it glided nimbly through her fingers, the

common wool of life was changed into a precious tissue--a golden age

untwined from the spindle. The sisters ply their work in gladness, and

glory in their blessed task; and far, far away stretches the glittering

thread, beyond the years of Nestor and Tithonus. Phœbus stands by their

side, and sings to them as they spin--Phœbus the god of song and the god

of prophecy. “Stay not, oh stay not, gentle sisters; he shall transcend

the limits of human life; he shall be like me in face, like me in beauty;

neither in song nor in eloquence behind me. He shall restore a blissful

age to wearied men, and break again the long silence of the Laws. Yes,

as when Lucifer drives the stars before him, and morning dissipates the

clouds, the bright sun gazes on the world, and starts his chariot on

its daily race,--so Cæsar breaks upon the earth; such is the Nero whom

Rome now beholds--beams his bright countenance with tempered rays, and

glistens his fair neck beneath its floating curls.”[f]

FOOTNOTES

[8] [It may be stated, once for all, that the view of Tiberius here

presented has not gone unchallenged. Tarver[n] in particular champions

the emperor against his ancient and modern detractors. It is urged that

Tiberius was really a sternly moral man, with a high standard of duty,

whose want of tact and sociability alone made him unpopular. His letters

and addresses to the senate are said to show great dignity and wisdom;

and it is claimed that from his youth up his habits were regular and

his life simple and frugal. All this may be true of the early years of

Tiberius, but the balance of opinion strongly supports the belief that in

his later years the emperor showed a different spirit. Perhaps disease or

senility may have produced the change.]

[9] [Full details of the German campaign have been given in Chapter XXX.

A brief résumé is given here for added clearness.]

[10] [Tacitus[d] however, speaks of the _legatus Mœsiæ_ A.D. 14, so it

would seem that Mœsia became a Roman province in the reign of Augustus.]

[11] [This is the number as stated by Tacitus; Suetonius says twenty

thousand.]

[12] Augustus was so taken with the charms of this island, that he gave

lands in exchange for it to the people of Naples to whom it belonged.

Dion,[j] LII, 43.

[13] Writers differ as to her age. Tacitus merely says _extrema ætate_.

Pliny[k] (XIV, 8) makes her eighty-two, Dion[j] (LVIII, 1) eighty-six

years old. This last seems to be the more correct, as her son Tiberius

was now seventy years of age.

[14] According to Josephus,[h] Antonia, the widow of his brother Drusus,

wrote him a full account of Sejanus’ proceedings, and sent it by a trusty

slave named Pallas.

[15] [In attempting clearly to comprehend the disturbances that attended

the later period of Tiberius, we must bear in mind that the republican

reaction against the empire was now at its height, and that severe

measures were doubtless necessary in crushing the movement. The adoption

of such measures does not necessarily imply that Tiberius had changed his

public policy: it was but natural that he should defend the principate to

the utmost of his ability. But such conditions reacted disastrously upon

the public morals, and fostered the hatred of the emperor.]

[16] [It must, however, be understood that Tacitus unquestionably based

his opinions upon contemporary accounts that have not come down to us, or

upon the verbal testimony of eye-witnesses. Tacitus was born only about

twenty years after the death of Tiberius. It would appear, however, that

the famous historian was led to adopt systematically the opinions, and

even the indignant gossip, of the emperor’s enemies.]

[17] Seneca, _Apocol._ 13. Claudius Cæsar venit … ἑυρήκαμεν, συγχαίρωμεν.

Great has been the success of this remarkable passage, which may possibly

have suggested the noble lines of Shakespeare (_Rich. III._ Act i. sc. 4):

“Clarence is come, false, fleeting, perjured Clarence,

That stabbed me in the field by Tewksbury.”

It is more probable that Voltaire had it in his mind when he pronounced

on the fate of Constantine and Clovis; and more than one stanza of

Byron’s _Vision of Judgment_ is evidently suggested by it.

[Illustration]