Chapter XXXV: Galba, Otho, Vitellius, and the Three Flavians (68-96 A.d.) (2)

The care of rebuilding the Capitol [says Tacitus] he committed to Lucius Vestinus, a man of equestrian rank, but in credit and dignity among the first men in Rome. The soothsayers, who were convened by him, advised that the ruins of the former shrine should be removed to the marshes, and a temple raised on the old foundation; for the gods would not permit a change of the ancient form. On the eleventh day before the calends of July, the sky being remarkably serene, the whole space devoted to the sacred structure was encompassed with chaplets and garlands. Such of the soldiers as had names of auspicious import entered within the enclosure, with branches from trees emblematical of good fortune. Then the vestal virgins in procession, with a band of boys and girls whose parents, male and female, were still living, sprinkled the whole place with water drawn from living fountains and rivers. Helvidius Priscus, the prætor, preceded by Plautius Ælianus, the pontiff, after purifying the area by sacrificing a swine, a sheep, and a bull, and replacing the entrails upon the turf, invoked Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, and the tutelar deities of the empire, praying that they would prosper the undertaking, and, with divine power, carry to perfection a work begun by the piety of man; and then Helvidius laid his hand upon the wreaths that bound the foundation stone and were twined about the cords. At the same time, the magistrates, the priests, the senators, the knights, and a number of citizens, with simultaneous efforts, prompted by zeal and exultation, haled the ponderous stone along. Contributions of gold and silver, and pieces of other metals, the first that were taken from the mines, that had never been melted in the furnace, but in their native state, were thrown upon the foundations on all hands. The soothsayers enjoined that neither stone nor gold which had been applied to other uses should profane the building. Additional height was given to the edifice; this was the only variation conceded by religion; and in point of magnificence it was considered to be inferior to the former temple.[i]

Vespasian also began the construction of the great amphitheatre which, under the name of the Colosseum, became the wonder of subsequent generations, and which is still sufficiently preserved to excite the admiration of every tourist. But this gigantic structure--seating about eighty-five thousand people--was not completed until the reign of Vespasian’s successor, Titus.

BANISHMENT AND DEATH OF HELVIDIUS

In his conduct of both private and public affairs, Vespasian appears to have acted with temperate judgment.[a] There are, however, two transactions which, it must be acknowledged, have left a stain upon his memory. The first was the death of Helvidius Priscus; the other, the heartless treatment of Epponina, wife of Sabinus. Helvidius, excellent man, fell a sacrifice to his enemies, and, perhaps, to his own intemperate conduct. Initiated early in the doctrines of the stoic school, and confirmed in the pride of virtue by the example of Pætus Thrasea, his father-in-law, he saw the arts by which Vespasian, notwithstanding the rigour of his nature, courted popularity; and did not scruple to say that liberty was more in danger from the artifices of the new family, than from the vices of former emperors. In the senate he spoke his mind with unbounded freedom.

Vespasian bore his opposition to the measures of government with patience and silent dignity. He knew the virtues of the man, and retained a due esteem for the memory of Thrasea. Willing, on that account, to live on terms with Helvidius, he advised him to be, for the future, a silent senator. The pride of a stoic spurned at the advice. Passive obedience was so repugnant to his principles that he stood more firm in opposition. Mucianus and Eprius Marcellus, who were the favourite ministers of the emperor, were his enemies; and it is probable that, by their advice, Vespasian was at length induced to let the proceedings of the senate take their course. Helvidius was arraigned by the fathers, and ordered into custody. He was soon after banished, and, in consequence of an order despatched from Rome, put to death. It is said that Vespasian relented, and sent a special messenger to respite execution; but the blow was struck. Helvidius was, beyond all question, a determined republican. His own imprudence provoked his fate; and this, perhaps, is what Tacitus had in contemplation when he places the moderation of Agricola in contrast to the violent spirit of others, who rush on certain destruction, without being by their death of service to the public.

The case of Epponina was an instance of extreme rigour, or rather cruelty. She was the wife of Julius Sabinus, a leading chief among the Lingones. This man, Tacitus has told us, had the vanity to derive his pedigree from Julius Cæsar, who, he said, during his wars in Gaul, was struck with the beauty of his grandmother, and alleviated the toils of the campaign in her embraces. Ambitious, bold, and enterprising, he kindled the flame of rebellion among his countrymen, and, having resolved to shake off the Roman yoke, marched at the head of a numerous army into the territory of the Sequani, a people in alliance with Rome. This was 69 A.D. He hazarded a battle, and was defeated with great slaughter. His rash-levied numbers were either cut to pieces or put to flight. He himself escaped the general carnage. He fled for shelter to an obscure cottage; and, in order to propagate a report that he destroyed himself, set fire to his lurking-place.

SABINUS AND EPPONINA

By what artful stratagems he was able to conceal himself in caves and dens, and, by the assistance of the faithful Epponina, to prolong his life for nine years afterwards, cannot now be known from Tacitus. The account which the great historian promised has perished with the narrative of Vespasian’s reign. Plutarch relates the story as a proof of conjugal fidelity. From that writer the following particulars may be gleaned: Two faithful freedmen attended Sabinus to his cavern; one of them, Martialis by name, returned to Epponina with a feigned account of her husband’s death. His body, she was made to believe, was consumed in the flames. In the vehemence of her grief she gave credit to the story. In a few days she received intelligence by the same messenger that her husband was safe in his lurking-place. She continued during the rest of the day to act all the exteriors of grief, with joy at her heart, but suppressed with care. In the dead of night she visited Sabinus. Before the dawn of day she returned to her own house, and, for the space of seven months, repeated her clandestine visits, supplying her husband’s wants, and softening all his cares. At the end of that time she conceived hopes of obtaining a free pardon; and having disguised her husband in such a manner as to render a detection impossible, she accompanied him on a long and painful journey to Rome. Finding there that she had been deceived with visionary schemes, she marched back with Sabinus, and lived with him in his den for nine years longer.

In the year 79 A.D. they were both discovered, and in chains conveyed to Rome. Vespasian forgot his usual clemency. Sabinus was condemned, and hurried to execution. Epponina was determined not to survive her husband. She changed her supplicating tone, and, with a spirit unconquered even in ruin, addressed Vespasian: “Death,” she said, “has no terror for me. I have lived happier under ground, than you upon your throne. Bid your assassins strike their blow; with joy I leave a world in which you can play the tyrant.”

She was ordered for execution. Plutarch concludes with saying that during Vespasian’s reign there was nothing to match the horror of this atrocious deed; for which the vengeance of the gods fell upon Vespasian, and, in a short time after, wrought the extirpation of his whole family.[j]

THE CHARACTER AND END OF VESPASIAN

[Sidenote: [69-79 A.D.]]

These, however, would seem to have been altogether exceptional instances of cruelty. Anecdotes illustrating the opposite character are not wanting. Thus: He caused the daughter of Vitellius, his avowed enemy, to be married into a noble family; and he himself provided her a suitable fortune. One of Nero’s servants coming to entreat pardon for having once rudely thrust him out of the palace, and insulting him when in office, Vespasian only took his revenge by serving him just in the same manner. When any plots or conspiracies were formed against him, he disdained to punish the guilty, saying that they deserved rather his contempt for their ignorance than his resentment, as they seemed to envy him a dignity of which he daily experienced the uneasiness. When he was seriously advised to beware of Mettius Pomposianus, against whom there was strong cause of suspicion, he raised him to the dignity of consul, adding that the time would come when he must be sensible of so great a benefit.

His liberality in the encouragement of arts and learning was not less than his clemency. He settled a constant salary of a hundred thousand sesterces upon the teachers of rhetoric. He was particularly favourable to Josephus, the Jewish historian. Quintilian, the orator, and Pliny, the naturalist, flourished in his reign, and were highly esteemed by him. He was no less an encourager of all other excellencies in art, and invited the greatest masters and artificers from all parts of the world, making them considerable presents as he found occasion.

Yet all his numerous acts of generosity and magnificence could not preserve his character from the imputation of rapacity and avarice. He revived many obsolete methods of taxation, and even bought and sold commodities himself, in order to increase his fortune. He is charged with advancing the most avaricious governors to the provinces, in order to share their plunder on their return to Rome. He descended to some very unusual and dishonourable imposts. But the avarice of princes is generally a virtue when their own expenses are but few. The exchequer, when Vespasian came to the throne, was so much exhausted that he informed the senate that it would require a supply of 40,000,000,000, sesterces [£300,000,000 or $1,500,000,000] to re-establish the commonwealth. This necessity must naturally produce more numerous and heavy taxations than the empire had hitherto experienced; but while the provinces were thus obliged to contribute to the support of his power, he took every precaution to provide for their safety, so that we find but two insurrections in his reign.

In the fourth year of his reign Antiochus, king of Commagene, holding a private correspondence with the Parthians, the declared enemies of Rome, was taken prisoner in Cilicia, by Pætus the governor, and sent bound to Rome. But Vespasian generously prevented all ill-treatment towards him, by giving him a residence at Lacedæmon and allowing him a revenue suitable to his dignity.

About the same time also, the Alani, a barbarous people, who lived along the river Tanaïs, abandoned their barren wilds and invaded the kingdom of Media. From thence passing like a torrent into Armenia, after great ravages, they overthrew Tiridates, the king of that country, with prodigious slaughter. Titus was at length sent to chastise their insolence, and relieve a king that was in alliance with Rome. However, the barbarians retired at the approach of the Roman army, laden with plunder, being in some measure compelled to wait a more favourable opportunity of renewing their irruptions.

But these incursions were as a transient storm, the effects of which were soon repaired by the emperor’s moderation and assiduity. We are told that he new-formed and established a thousand nations, which had scarcely before amounted to two hundred. No provinces in the empire lay out of his view and protection. He had, during his whole reign, a particular regard to Britain; his generals, Petilius Cerealis and Julius Frontinus, brought the greatest part of the island into subjection (70 A.D.), and Agricola, who succeeded soon after (78 A.D.), completed what they had begun.

Such long and uninterrupted success no way increased this emperor’s vanity. He ever seemed averse to those swelling titles which the senate and people were constantly offering him. When the king of Parthia, in one of his letters, styled himself king of kings, Vespasian in his answer only called himself simply Flavius Vespasian. He was so far from attempting to hide the meanness of his original that he frequently mentioned it in company; and when some flatterers were for deriving his pedigree from Hercules, he despised and derided the meanness of their adulation. In this manner having reigned ten years, loved by his subjects and deserving their affection, he was surprised with an indisposition at Campania. Removing from thence to the city, and afterwards to a country-seat near Rome, he was there taken with a flux, which brought him to the last extremity. However, perceiving his end approaching, and as he was just going to expire, he cried out that an emperor ought to die standing; wherefore, raising himself upon his feet, he expired in the hands of those that sustained him. (79 A.D.)

“He was a man,” says Pliny,[g] “in whom power made no alteration, except in giving him the opportunity of doing good equal to his will.” He was the second Roman emperor that died an unquestionably natural death; and he was peaceably succeeded by Titus his son.[b]

A CLASSICAL ESTIMATE OF VESPASIAN

The only thing deservedly blamable in Vespasian’s character [says Suetonius] was his love of money. For not satisfied with reviving the imposts which had been dropped under Galba, he imposed new taxes burdensome to the subjects, augmented the tribute of the provinces, and doubled that of some. He likewise openly practised a sort of traffic which would have been scandalous even in a person below the dignity of an emperor, buying great quantities of goods, for the purpose of retailing them again to advantage. Nay, he made no scruple of selling the great offices of state to the candidates, and pardons likewise to persons under prosecution, as well the innocent as the guilty. It is believed that he advanced all the most rapacious amongst the procurators to higher offices, with the view of squeezing them after they had acquired great riches. He was commonly said, “to have made use of them as sponges,” because he did, as one may say, wet them when dry and squeeze them when wet. Some say that he was naturally extremely covetous, and that he was upbraided with it by an old herdsman of his, who, upon the emperor’s refusing to enfranchise him gratis, which at his advancement he humbly petitioned for, cried out that the fox changed his hair, but not his nature. There are some, on the other hand, of opinion that he was urged to his rapacious proceedings by necessity, and the extreme poverty of the treasury and exchequer, of which he publicly took notice in the beginning of his reign; declaring that no less than forty thousand millions of sesterces was necessary for the support of the government. This is the more likely to be true of him, because he applied to the best purposes what he procured by bad means.

His liberality to all ranks of people was particularly eminent. He made up to several senators the estate required by law to qualify them for that dignity, relieving likewise such men of consular rank as were poor, with a yearly allowance of five hundred thousand sesterces; and rebuilt, in a better manner than before, several cities in different parts of the empire, which had been much damaged by earthquakes or fires.

He was a great encourager of learning and learned men. He first appointed the Latin and Greek professors of rhetoric the yearly stipend of a hundred thousand sesterces each out of the exchequer. He was likewise extremely generous to such as excelled in poetry, or even the mechanic arts, and particularly to one that brushed up the picture of Venus at Cos, and another who repaired the Colossus. A mechanic offering to convey some huge pillars into the capital at a small expense, he rewarded him very handsomely for his invention, but would not accept of his service, saying, “You must allow me to take care of the poor people.”

In the games celebrated at the revival of the stage in Marcellus’ theatre, he restored the old musical entertainments. He gave Apollinaris the tragedian four hundred thousand sesterces; Terpnus and Diodorus the harpers two hundred thousand; to some a hundred thousand; and the least he gave to any of the performers was forty thousand, besides many golden crowns. He had company constantly at his table, and entertained them in a plentiful manner, on purpose to help the shambles. As in the Saturnalia he made presents to the men at his table to carry away with them; so did he to the women upon the calends of March; notwithstanding which he could not wipe off the infamy of his former covetousness. The Alexandrians called him constantly _Cybiosactes_; a name which had been given to one of their kings who was sordidly covetous. Nay, at his funeral, Favo the archmimic, representing his person, and imitating, as usual, his behaviour both in speech and gesture, asked aloud of the procurators, how much his funeral pomp would cost. And being answered “ten millions of sesterces,” he cried out, that give him but a hundred thousand sesterces, and they might throw his body into the Tiber, if they would.

_Personality of Vespasian_

He was broad set, strong limbed, and had the countenance of a person who was straining. On this account, one of the buffoons at court, upon the emperor’s desiring him “to say something merry upon him,” facetiously answered, “I will, when you have done easing yourself.”

His method of life was commonly this: After he came to be emperor, he used to rise very early, often before daybreak. Having read over his letters, and the breviaries of all the offices about court, he ordered his friends to be admitted; and whilst they were paying him their compliments, he would put on his shoes and dress himself. Then, after the despatch of such business as was brought before him, he rode out in his chaise or chair; and, upon his return, laid himself down upon his couch to sleep, accompanied by some of his concubines, of whom he had taken a great number into his service upon the death of Cænis. After rising from his couch, he entered the bath, and then went to supper. They say he never was more easy or obliging than at that time; and therefore those about him always seized that opportunity, when they had any favour to request of him.

He chiefly affected wit upon his own shameful means of raising money, to wipe off the odium by means of a little jocularity. One of his ministers, who was much in his favour, requesting of him a stewardship for some person, under pretence of being his brother; he put off the affair, but sent for the person who was the candidate, and having squeezed out of him as much money as he had agreed to give his solicitor, he appointed him immediately to the place. The minister soon after renewing his application, “You must,” said he, “make a brother of somebody else; for he whom you took for yours is really mine.” Once upon a journey suspecting that his mule driver had alighted to shoe his mules, only to give time and opportunity to one that had a lawsuit depending to speak to him, he asked him how much he had for shoeing, and would have a share of the profit. Some deputies having come to acquaint him that a large statue, which would cost a vast sum, was ordered to be erected for him at the public charge, he bade them erect it immediately, showing them his hand hollowed, and saying there was a base ready for it.[22]

Even when Vespasian was under the apprehensions and danger of death, he would not forbear his jests. For when, amongst other prodigies, the mausoleum of the Cæsars flew open on a sudden, and a blazing star appeared in the heavens, one of the prodigies, he said, concerned Julia Calvina, who was of the family of Augustus; and the other, the king of the Parthians, who wore his hair long. And when his distemper first seized him,“I suppose,” said he, “I am going to be a god.”

TITUS (T. FLAVIUS SABINUS VESPASIANUS II) 79-81 A.D.

[Sidenote: [79-81 A.D.]]

Titus, who had the same cognomen with his father, was [says Suetonius] the darling and delight of mankind, (so much did he possess of happy endowments, to conciliate the favour of all; and what is extremely difficult indeed, after he came to be emperor; for before that period, even during the reign of his father, he lay under the displeasure and censure of the public). He was born upon the third of the calends of January, in the year remarkable for the death of Caligula, near the Septizonium, in a mean house, and a small dark chamber.

He was educated at court with Britannicus, instructed in the same parts of literature, and under the same masters with him. During this time, they say, that a physiognomist, being brought by Narcissus, the freedman of Claudius, to inspect Britannicus, positively affirmed that he would never come to be emperor, but that Titus, who stood by, would. They were so familiar, that Titus being next him at table, is thought to have tasted of the fatal potion which put an end to Britannicus’ life, and to have contracted from it a distemper which remained with him a long time. The remembrance of all these circumstances being fresh in his mind, he erected a golden statue of him in the palace, dedicated to him another on horseback, of ivory, and attended it in the Circensian procession.

He was, when a boy, remarkable for fine accomplishments both of body and mind; and as he advanced in years, they became still more conspicuous. He had a graceful person, combining an equal mixture of majesty and sweetness; was very strong, though not tall, and somewhat big-bellied. He was endowed with an excellent memory, and a capacity for all the arts of peace and war; was a perfect master in the use of arms, and in riding the great horse; very ready in the Latin and Greek tongues, as well in verse as prose; and such was the facility he possessed in both, that he would harangue and versify extempore. Nor was he unacquainted with music, but would both sing and play upon the harp very finely, and with judgment. I have likewise been informed by many, that he was remarkably quick in the writing of shorthand, would in merriment and jest engage with his secretaries in the imitation of any hands he saw, and often say, “that he was admirably qualified for forgery.”

Upon the expiration of his quæstorship, he was made commander of a legion, and took the two strong cities of Tarichea and Gamala in Judea; and in a battle having his horse slain under him, he mounted another, whose rider he was engaged with, and killed.

Soon after, when Galba came to be emperor, he was despatched away to congratulate him upon the occasion, and turned the eyes of all people upon him, wherever he came, it being the general opinion amongst them, that the emperor had sent for him with a design to adopt him for his son. But finding all things again in confusion, he turned back upon the road; and going to consult the oracle of Venus at Paphos about his voyage, he received assurances of obtaining the empire for himself. In this prediction he was soon after confirmed; and being left to finish the reduction of Judea, in the last assault upon Jerusalem, he slew seven of the men that defended it, with just so many arrows, and took it upon his daughter’s birthday. Upon this occasion, the soldiers expressed so much joy and fondness for him, that, in their congratulation of him, they unanimously saluted him by the title of emperor; and, upon his quitting the province soon after, would needs have detained him, earnestly begging of him, and that not without threats, “either to stay, or to take them all with him.” This incident gave rise to a suspicion of his being engaged in a design to rebel against his father, and claim for himself the government of the East; and the suspicion increased, when, on his way to Alexandria, he wore a diadem at the consecration of the ox Apis at Memphis; which though he did only in compliance with an ancient religious usage of the country, yet there were some who put a bad construction upon it. Making therefore what haste he could into Italy, he arrived first at Rhegium, and sailing thence in a merchant ship to Puteoli, went to Rome with all possible expedition. Presenting himself unexpectedly to his father, he said, by way of reflection upon the rashness of the reports raised against him, “I am come, father, I am come.”

(From a bust in the Vatican)]

From that time he constantly acted as partner with his father in the government, and indeed as guardian of it. He triumphed with his father, bore jointly with him the office of censor; and was, besides, his colleague not only in the tribunitian authority, but seven consulships. Taking upon himself the care and inspection of all offices, he dictated letters, wrote proclamations in his father’s name, and pronounced his speeches in the senate, in room of the quæstor. He likewise took upon him the command of the guard, which before that time had never been held by any but a Roman knight, and behaved with great haughtiness and violence, taking off without scruple or delay all those of whom he was most jealous, after he had secretly engaged people to disperse themselves in the theatres and camp, and demand them as it were by general consent to be delivered up to punishment. Amongst these he invited to supper A. Cæcina, a man of consular rank, whom he ordered to be stabbed at his departure, immediately after he had got out of the room. To this act he was provoked by an imminent danger; for he had discovered a writing under the hand of Cæcina, containing an account of a plot carried on amongst the soldiery. By this means, though he provided indeed for the future security of his family, yet for the present he so much incurred the hatred of the people, that scarcely ever anyone came to the empire with a more odious character, or was more universally disliked.

Besides his cruelty, he lay under the suspicion of luxury, because he would continue his revels until midnight with the most riotous of his acquaintance. Nor was he less suspected of excessive lewdness, because of the swarms of favourites and eunuchs about him, and his well-known intrigue with Queen Berenice, to whom he was likewise reported to have promised marriage. He was supposed, besides, to be of a rapacious disposition; for it is certain, that, in causes which came before his father, he used to offer his interest to sale, and take bribes. In short, people openly declared an unfavourable opinion of him, and said he would prove another Nero. This prejudice however turned out in the end to his advantage, and enhanced his praises not a little, because he was found to possess no vicious propensities, but on the contrary the noblest virtues. His entertainments were pleasant rather than extravagant; and he chose such a set of friends, as the following princes acquiesced in as necessary for them and the government. He sent away Berenice from the city immediately, much against both their inclinations. Some of his old favourites, though such adepts in dancing that they bore an uncontrollable sway upon the stage, he was so far from treating with any extraordinary kindness, that he would not so much as see them in any public assembly of the people. He violated no private property; and if ever man refrained from injustice, he did; nay he would not accept of the allowable and customary contributions. Yet he was inferior to none of the princes before him, in point of generosity. Having opened his amphitheatre, and built some warm baths close by it with great expedition, he entertained the people with a most magnificent public diversion. He likewise exhibited a naval fight in the old naumachia, besides a combat of gladiators; and in one day brought into the theatre five thousand wild beasts of all kinds.

He was by nature extremely benevolent. For whereas the emperors after Tiberius, according to the example he had set them, would not admit the grants made by former princes to be valid, unless they received their own sanction, he confirmed them all by one general proclamation, without waiting until he should be addressed upon the subject. Of all who expressed a desire of any favour, it was his constant practice to send none away without hopes. And when his ministers insinuated to him, as if he promised more than he could perform, he replied, “Nobody ought to go away sad from an audience of his prince.” Once at supper, reflecting that he had done nothing for any that day, he broke out into that memorable and justly admired saying, “Friends, I have lost a day.”

He treated in particular the whole body of the people upon all occasions with so much complaisance, that, upon promising them an entertainment of gladiators, he declared, “He should manage it, not according to his own fancy, but that of the spectators,” and did accordingly. He denied them nothing, and very frankly encouraged them to ask what they pleased. Being a favourer of the gladiators called Thraces, he would, as such, frequently indulge a freedom with the people both in his words and gestures, but always with the least violation either of his imperial dignity or justice. To omit no occasion of acquiring popularity, he would let the common people be admitted into his bath, even when he made use of it himself. There happened in his reign some dreadful accidents, as an eruption of Mount Vesuvius in Campania, and a fire in Rome which continued during three days and three nights, besides a plague, such as was scarcely ever known before. Amidst these dismal calamities, he not only discovered all the concern that might be expected from a prince, but a paternal affection for his people; one while comforting them by his proclamations, and another while assisting them as much as was in his power. He chose by lot, from amongst the men of consular rank, commissioners for the relief of Campania.

The estates of those who had perished by the eruption of Vesuvius, and who had left no heirs, he applied to the repair of such cities as had been damaged by that accident. In respect of the public buildings destroyed in the fire of the city, he declared that nobody should be a loser by them but himself. Accordingly, he applied all the ornaments of his palaces to the decoration of the temples, and purposes of public utility, and appointed several men of the equestrian order to superintend the work. For the relief of the people during the plague, he employed, in the way of sacrifice and medicine, all means both human and divine. Amongst the calamities of the times, were informers, and those who employed them; a tribe of miscreants who had grown up under the license of former reigns. These he frequently ordered to be lashed or well cudgeled in the Forum, and then, after he had obliged them to pass through the amphitheatre as a public spectacle, commanded them to be sold for slaves, or else banished them into some rocky islands. And to discourage the like practices for the future, amongst other things, he forbade anyone to be proceeded against upon several laws for the same fact, and that the condition of persons deceased should, after a certain number of years, be exempt from all inquiry.

Having avowed that he accepted the office of high priest for the purpose of preserving his hands undefiled, he faithfully adhered to his promise. For after that time he was neither directly nor indirectly concerned in the death of any person, though he sometimes was sufficiently provoked. He swore that he “would perish himself, rather than prove the destruction of any man.” Two men of patrician quality being convicted of aspiring to the empire, he only advised them to desist, saying, that sovereign power was disposed of by fate, and promised them, that, if they had anything else to desire of him, he would gratify them. Upon this incident, he immediately sent messengers to the mother of one of them, that was at a great distance, and concerned about her son, to satisfy her that he was safe. Nay he not only invited them to sup with him, but next day, at a show of gladiators, purposely placed them close by him; and when the arms of the combatants were presented to him, he handed them to the two associates. It is said likewise, that upon being informed of their nativities, he assured them, that some great calamity would sometime befall them, but from another hand, not his. Though his brother was perpetually plotting against him, almost openly spiriting up the armies to rebellion, and contriving to leave the court with the view of putting himself at their head, yet he could not endure to put him to death. So far was he from entertaining such a sentiment, that he would not so much as banish him the court, nor treat him with less respect than before. But from his first accession to the empire, he constantly declared him his partner in it, and that he should be his successor; begging of him sometimes in private with tears, to make him a return of the like affection.[c]

THE DESTRUCTION OF POMPEII AND HERCULANEUM

[Sidenote: [79 A.D.]]

The reign of this excellent prince was marked by a series of public calamities. He had reigned only two months when a tremendous volcanic eruption, the first on record, from Mount Vesuvius spread dismay through Italy. This mountain had hitherto formed the most beautiful feature in the landscape of Campania, being clad with vines and other agreeable trees and plants. Earthquakes had of late years been of frequent occurrence; but on the 24th of August the summit of the mountain sent forth a volume of flame, stones, and ashes which spread devastation far and wide. The sky to the extent of many leagues was enveloped in the gloom of night; the fine dust, it was asserted, was wafted even to Egypt and Syria; and at Rome it rendered the sun invisible for many days. Men and beasts, birds and fishes perished alike. The adjoining towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum were overwhelmed by the earthquake which attended the eruption, and their inhabitants destroyed. Among those who lost their lives on this occasion was Pliny, the great naturalist. He commanded the fleet at Misenum, and his curiosity leading him to proceed to Stabiæ to view this convulsion of nature more closely, he was suffocated by the pestilential air.[e]

Dion Cassius has left us a vivid picture of the memorable eruption of Vesuvius: “The events which occurred in Campania,” he says, “were calculated to arouse both fear and wonder; there, just as autumn was approaching, a great fire suddenly broke out. Mount Vesuvius is near the sea of Naples and contains a vast reservoir of fire. In former times the whole mountain was of the same height and the fire came from its very centre; for this is the only spot which is in combustion; the whole of the outside is, even to this day, exempt from fire. For this reason, since these portions still remain intact while those of the centre crumbled away and fell into dust, the surrounding peaks preserve their former elevation; while on another side the whole of the part ignited, having been worn away by time, has fallen in, leaving a cavity which, to compare small things with great, gives to the mountain the general appearance of an amphitheatre. On the top are trees and vines in great number, whilst the crater is the prey of fire and exhales smoke by day and flame by night, so that it might be supposed perfumes of every kind were being constantly burned within. This phenomenon is manifested sometimes with more, sometimes with less intensity; at times even cinders are thrown out when some great mass has fallen in and stones fly about, driven by the violence of the wind. Noises and rumblings proceed from the mountain, and it must be observed that the apertures of the crater, which are some distance apart, are narrow and hidden.

“Such is Vesuvius, and these manifestations are repeated nearly every year. But the prodigies which occurred in earlier days, though to those who gave them continued attention they appeared more than ordinary, may, even if we take them all together, be regarded as trivial in comparison with the occurrences of this period. This is what actually happened. Men, numerous and huge, of a height exceeding that of any human being and such as the giants are depicted, were seen to wander day and night, now on the mountain, now in the surrounding district and in the towns, and sometimes even walking in the air. Then suddenly there came winds and violent tremblings of the ground, so that the whole plain shuddered and the crests of the mountains leaped. At the same time noises arose, some subterranean, resembling thunder, others, coming from the ground, were like bellowings; the sea roared, and the sky, in echo, answered to its roarings. After this a fearful crash, like mountains hurtling against one another, suddenly made itself heard; then first stones were thrown out with such force that they reached the summit of the mountain; then huge flames and thick smoke which darkened the air and entirely hid the sun as in an eclipse.

“Night succeeded to day and darkness to light; some fancied that the giants were reawakening to life, for many phantoms in their likeness were seen in the smoke and moreover a noise of trumpets was heard; others thought that the whole world was about to be swallowed up in chaos or in fire. Therefore some fled from their houses into the streets; others from the streets into their houses, from the sea to the land and from the land to the sea, devoured by fear and feeling that anything at a distance was safer than their present condition. At the same time a prodigious quantity of cinders was thrown up and filled the earth, the sea, and the air; other scourges also descended indiscriminately upon mankind, on the country and on the herds, destroyed the fishes and the birds, and moreover engulfed two whole cities, Herculaneum and Pompeii, with all the people who chanced to be seated in the theatre. Finally there was so much dust that some of it penetrated as far as Africa, Syria, Egypt, and even Rome itself; darkening the air above that city and covering the sun. There it gave rise to a great panic which lasted several days, for none knew what had happened and none could guess what it was; men fancied that everything had been reversed, that the sun was about to disappear into the earth and the earth to be shot up into the sky.

[Sidenote: [79-80 A.D.]]

“For the moment these ashes did no great harm to the Romans (it was later on that they engendered a terrible contagious sickness), but the year following, another fire, starting above ground, devoured a great part of Rome while Titus was absent visiting the scene of the disasters in Campania. The temples of Serapis and Isis, the Septa, the temple of Neptune, the baths of Agrippa, the Pantheon, the Diribitorium, the theatre of Balbus, the scena of Pompey’s theatre, the Porticus Octaviæ, with the library, the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, with the adjacent temples, were the prey of the flames. True is it that this misfortune was due less to men than to the gods; for from what I have said all may judge of the other losses. Titus sent two consulars into Campania to establish colonies there and gave the inhabitants, besides other sums, those which fell in from citizens dying without heirs; but he received none either from individuals, or towns, or kings, in spite of many gifts and promises on the part of many of them; however this did not prevent his re-establishing everything from his own resources.”[f]

It will be observed that Dion writes from the standpoint of a Roman, and with only incidental reference to the loss of Pompeii and Herculaneum, which cities evidently had no very great contemporary importance. Yet, as has been pointed out, the burial of these cities resulted in the preservation of a mass of documents which, brought to light some eighteen centuries later, furnishes such testimony to the manners and customs of the time as is presented by no other evidence extant.

PLINY’S ACCOUNT OF THE ERUPTION

[Sidenote: [79 A.D.]]

Further details of the disaster at Pompeii are given by Pliny the Younger[g] in two letters written to Tacitus, with the intention of furnishing that historian with correct materials relative to the event.[a] He says:

It appears that many and frequent shocks of earthquake had been felt for some days previously; but as these were phenomena by no means uncommon in Campania, extraordinary alarm was not excited by that circumstance, until, about one o’clock in the afternoon of the 24th of August, a vast and singular cloud was seen to elevate itself in the atmosphere. From what mountain it proceeded was not readily discernible at Misenum, where Pliny the elder (at that time) held the command of the Roman fleet. This cloud continued arising in an uniform column of smoke, which varied in brightness, and was dark and spotted, as it was more or less impregnated with earth and cinders. Having attained an immense elevation, expanding itself, it spread out horizontally, in form like the branches of the pine, and precipitated the burning materials with which it was charged upon the many beautiful but ill-fated towns which stood thick upon this delightful coast. The extraordinary phenomenon now excited the curiosity of Pliny, who ordered a vessel to be prepared for the purpose of proceeding to a nearer inspection; but meeting some of the fugitives, and learning its destructive effects, his curiosity was changed to commiseration for the distressed, to whose succour he immediately hastened.

On approaching Retina, the cinders falling hotter as well as in greater quantity, mixed with pumice-stone, with black and broken pieces of burning rock; the retreat and agitation of the sea driven backwards by the convulsive motion of the earth, together with the disrupted fragments hurled from the mountain on the shore, threatened destruction to anything which attempted to advance. Pliny therefore ordered the ship to be steered towards Stabiæ, where he found the alarm so great, that his friend Pomponianus had already conveyed his more portable property on board a vessel. The historian, less apprehensive, after partaking of a meal with his friend, went to bed; but was, however, soon obliged to remove, as, had he remained much longer, it was feared the falling cinders would have prevented the possibility of forcing a way out of the room. Still the town had not yet been materially affected, nor had the ravages of this great operation of nature reached Misenum; but suddenly broad refulgent expanses of fire burst from every part of Vesuvius, and, shining with redoubled splendour through the gloom of night which had come on, glared over a scene, now accompanied by the increased horrors of a continued earthquake, which shaking the edifices from their foundations, and precipitating their roofs upon the heads of the affrighted beings who had thought to find shelter in them, threatened universal desolation.

Driven from their homes, which no longer afforded security, the unfortunate inhabitants sought refuge in the fields and open places, covering their heads with pillows, to protect themselves from the increasing fall of stones and volcanic matter, which accumulated in such quantity, as to render it difficult to withdraw the feet from the mass, after remaining still some minutes; but the continuance of internal convulsion still persecuted them; their chariots agitated to and fro, even propped with stones, were not to be kept steady; while, although now day elsewhere, yet here most intense darkness was rendered more appalling by the fitful gleams of torches, at intervals obscured by the transient blaze of lightning.

Multitudes now crowded towards the beach, as the sea, it was imagined, would afford certain means of retreat; but the boisterous agitation of that element, alternately rolling on the shore, and thrown back by the convulsive motion of the earth, leaving the marine animals upon the land it retreated from, precluded every possibility of escape.

At length, preceded by a strong sulphurous stench, a black and dreadful cloud, skirted on every side by forked lightning, burst into a train of fire and igneous vapour, descended over the surface of the ocean, and covered the whole bay of the crater, from the island of Capreæ to the promontory of Misenum with its noxious exhalations; while the thick smoke, accompanied by a slighter shower of ashes, rolled like a torrent among the miserable and affrighted fugitives, who, in the utmost consternation, increased their danger by pressing forward in crowds, without an object, amidst darkness and desolation; now were heard the shrieks of women, screams of children, clamours of men, all accusing their fate, and imploring death, the deliverance they feared, with outstretched hands to the gods, whom many thought about to be involved, together with themselves, in the last eternal night.

Three days and nights were thus endured in all the anguish of suspense and uncertainty; many were doubtless stifled by the mephitic vapour; others spent with the toil of forcing their way through deep and almost impassable roads, sank down to rise no more; while those who escaped, spread the alarm, with all the circumstances of aggravation and horror which their imaginations, under the influence of fear, suggested. At length a gleam of light appeared, not of day, but fire; which, passing, was succeeded by an intense darkness, with so heavy a shower of ashes, that it became necessary to keep the feet in motion to avoid being fixed and buried by the accumulation. On the fourth day the darkness by degrees began to clear away, the real day appeared, the sun shining forth sickly as in an eclipse; but all nature, to the weakened eyes, seemed changed; for towns and fields had disappeared under one expanse of white ashes, or were doubtfully marked, like the more prominent objects, after an alpine fall of snow.

If such be the description of this most tremendous visitation, as it affected Stabiæ and Misenum, comparatively distant from the source of the calamity, what must have been the situation of the unfortunate inhabitants of Pompeii, so near, of Herculaneum, within its focus? Must we not conclude that, at the latter place at least, most of those not overwhelmed by the torrents of stony mud which preceded others of flaming lava, burying their city sixty feet under the new surface, were overtaken by the showers of volcanic matter in the field, or drowned in attempting to escape by sea, their last but hopeless resource, since it appears to have received them to scarcely less certain destruction?

[Sidenote: [79-80 A.D.]]

The emperor Titus, whose great and good qualities here found every opportunity for their display, immediately hastened to this scene of affliction; appointed curatores, persons of consular dignity, to set up the ruined buildings, and take charge of the effects of those who perished without heirs, for the benefit of the surviving sufferers; to whom he remitted all taxes, and afforded that relief the nature of their circumstances required; personally encouraging the desponding, and alleviating the miseries of the sufferers, until a calamity of an equally melancholy description recalled him to the capital, where [as we have just been told by Dion Cassius] a most destructive fire laying waste nearly half the city, and raging three days without intermission, was succeeded by a pestilence, which for some time is said to have carried off ten thousand persons daily.[h]

AGRICOLA IN BRITAIN

[Sidenote: [79 A.D.]]

It was in the time of Vespasian and Titus that the famous Agricola campaigned in Britain. In his first summer there (78), he led his forces into the country of the Ordovices, in whose mountain passes the war of independence still lingered, drove the Britons across the Menai straits, and pursued them into Anglesea, as Suetonius had done before him, by boldly crossing the boiling current in the face of the enemy. The summer of 79 saw him advance northward into the territory of the Brigantes, and complete the organisation of the district, lately reduced, between the Humber and Tyne. Struck perhaps with the natural defences of the line from the Tyne to the Solway, where the island seems to have been broken, as it were, in the middle and soldered unevenly together, he drew a chain of forts from sea to sea, to protect the reclaimed subjects of the southern valleys from the untamed barbarians who roamed the Cheviots and the Pentlands.

To penetrate the stormy wilds of Caledonia, and track to their fastnesses the hordes of savages, the Ottadini, Horesti, and Mæatæ, who flitted among them, was an enterprise which promised no plunder and little glory. The legions of Rome, with their expensive equipments, could not hope even to support themselves on the bleak mountain sides, unclaimed by men and abandoned by nature. His camps on the Tyne and Irthing were the magazines from which Agricola’s supplies must wholly be drawn; the ordinary term of a provincial prefecture was inadequate to a long, a distant, and an aimless adventure. But Vespasian had yielded to the ardour of his favourite lieutenant; ample means were furnished, and ample time was allowed. In the third year of his command (80) Agricola pushed forward along the eastern coast, and making good with roads and fortresses every inch of his progress, reached, perhaps, the Firth of Forth. He had here reached the point where the two seas are divided by an isthmus less than forty miles in breadth. Here he repeated the operations of the preceding winter, planting his camps and stations from hill to hill, and securing a new belt of territory, ninety miles across, for Roman occupation. The natives, scared at his presence and fleeing before him, were thus thrust, in the language of Tacitus, as it were into another island. For a moment the empire seemed to have found its northern limit. Agricola rested through the next summer, occupied in the organisation of his conquests, and employed his fifth year (82) also in strengthening his position between the two isthmuses, and reducing the furthest corners of the province, whence the existence of a new realm was betrayed to him. The grassy plains of teeming Hibernia offered a fairer prey than the gray mountains which frowned upon his fresh entrenchments, and all their wealth, he was assured, might be secured by the valour of a single legion. But other counsels prevailed; Agricola turned from the Mull of Galloway, and Ireland was left to her fogs and feuds for eleven more centuries.[k]

THE DEATH OF TITUS

[Sidenote: [79-81 A.D.]]

Meanwhile [says Suetonius], Titus was taken off by an untimely death, more to the loss of mankind than himself. At the close of the public diversions with which he entertained the people, he wept bitterly before them all, and then went away for the country of the Sabines, very melancholy, because a victim, when about to be sacrificed, had made its escape, and loud thunder had been heard during a serene state of the atmosphere. At the first stage on the road, he was seized with a fever, and being carried thence in a sedan, they say that he put by the curtains, and looked up to heaven, complaining heavily, that his life was taken from him, though he had done nothing to deserve it; for there was no action of his that he had occasion to repent of, but one. What that was, he neither intimated himself, nor is it easy for any to conjecture. Some imagine that he alluded to the unlawful familiarity which he had formerly had with his brother’s wife. But Domitia solemnly denied it with an oath; which she would never have done, had there been any truth in the report; nay, she would certainly have boasted of it, as she was forward enough to do in regard to all her shameful intrigues.