1. Under a luckier star and with more loyal supporters, the leaders of the Flavian party were shaping the plans for their campaign. They had met at Poetovio, the winter-quarters of the Thirteenth Legion. There they debated whether to resolve to close the Pannonian Alps and wait until all their forces were massed behind them, or whether it would show more spirit to grapple with the enemy and struggle to win Italy. Those who thought they should wait for reinforcements and drag out the war stressed the power and reputation of the German legions and the fact that the backbone of the British army had arrived more recently with Vitellius. They, on the other hand, did not have the same number of legions and had recently been defeated. For all their bluster, beaten troops were inevitably inferior in morale. However, if in the meantime they held the Alps, Mucianus would arrive with the forces of the East. Moreover, Vespasian controlled the sea and the fleets, as well as enjoying the support of the provinces. Thanks to these, he could set in motion the massive machinery for what would virtually be a second war. So, a salutary delay would mean the presence of new forces, without losing any of their current ones.
2. In reply to these arguments, Antonius Primus, who was the keenest advocate of war, urged that speed would help their own cause but be deadly for Vitellius. Victory had made Vitellius’ forces lazier, not more confident, for they were not kept in a state of readiness in their barracks. In all the towns of Italy, they sat around in idleness, men to be feared only by their hosts, and the more ferociously they had acted before, the more greedily did they wolf down unaccustomed pleasures. In addition they had been softened up by the circus, the theatres and the charms of the capital, and they were exhausted by illnesses.1 Given a breathing space, however, even they would recover their toughness under training for war. Germany, the source of their strength, was not far away. Britain was only separated by a narrow body of water. The Gallic and Spanish provinces were close at hand, and from both came men, horses and money. Then there was Italy itself and the wealth of Rome. Finally, if the Vitellians wanted to take the offensive, they could rely on two fleets and a free run of the Adriatic. What good would the barricade of the Alps be then? Why should they drag out the fighting into the next summer? Where, meanwhile, were the Flavians to get money and supplies? Surely it would be better to profit from the very fact that the Pannonian legions had been cheated of victory rather than beaten in fair fight and were eager to get their own back, while the powerful armies of Moesia would come fresh to the attack?2 If one counted men rather than legions, their own side was the stronger and unsullied by indulging in pleasures. Besides, their very humiliation had helped discipline. The cavalry, furthermore, had not been beaten even at Bedriacum. Despite a difficult situation it had scattered Vitellius’ front-line.3 ‘On that occasion,’ Antonius exclaimed, ‘two Pannonian and Moesian cavalry regiments cut their way through the enemy: now sixteen will mass their colours and by their impact and din, by the very clouds of dust they raise, will bury and overwhelm riders and horses that have forgotten battle. Unless someone holds me back, at one and the same time I will both give the advice and carry out the plan. You, gentlemen, who are keeping your options open, hold back the legions! Lightly armed auxiliary cohorts will be sufficient for my purposes. Soon you shall hear that the gates of Italy have been unlocked and Vitellius’ fortunes shattered. You will be glad enough to follow, and tread in the footsteps of the victor.’
3. These and similar remarks Antonius poured out with flashing eyes and strident voice, so as to be audible over a wider area (for the centurions and some of the soldiers had joined the meeting). The result was that he swept even cautious and wary officers off their feet, while the ordinary soldiers and the others hailed Antonius as the one real man and leader, spurning the sluggishness of the other generals. This indeed was the reputation he had already won at the initial meeting when Vespasian’s letter was read out. He had not, like the majority of the speakers, confined his remarks to ambiguities which he could later construe to suit events, but he was felt to have committed himself openly, and to that extent he carried greater weight with the troops as their partner in crime – or glory.
4. After Antonius, the most influential officer was the procurator Cornelius Fuscus.4 He, too, made a habit of criticizing Vitellius bitterly and had left no escape route for himself if things went wrong. Then there was Tampius Flavianus. By nature dilatory in his old age, he was distrusted by the troops, who suspected that he had not forgotten that he was a relative of Vitellius. Moreover, by fleeing when the legions first became turbulent and then returning of his own free will, he was believed to have sought an excuse for treachery. For, after resigning command of Pannonia, Flavianus took himself off to the safety of Italy, but then his desire for revolution had induced him to resume the title of governor and join in the civil war. Cornelius Fuscus was the man persuading him to act – not that Fuscus needed such dynamism as Flavianus could offer, but he felt that the renown of an ex-consul should lend the incipient Flavian movement an air of respectability.
5. However, in order to transfer operations to Italy safely and efficiently, written instructions were sent to Aponius Saturninus to move up quickly with the army of Moesia, and in case the now-defenceless provinces should be left open to threats from the barbarian tribes, the rulers of the Sarmatian Iazyges,5 who hold absolute power in their community, were enrolled in the Flavian army. They also offered to raise a mass levy and to supply a force of cavalry, their one effective arm, but the contribution was rejected for fear that during the dissensions they might engineer a foreign war or abandon their obligation and honour if offered greater rewards by the other side. The Flavians secured the support of the Suebian kings, Sido and Italicus,6 who had shown long-standing compliance to Rome and whose people were more ready to keep faith than to break it. Auxiliary forces were posted on the army’s flank facing Raetia, which was hostile and whose governor Porcius Septiminus was a staunch adherent of Vitellius. This was why Sextilius Felix, together with the Aurian cavalry regiment and some auxiliary detachments from Noricum, was sent to hold the bank of the River Aenus, which forms the boundary between Raetia and Noricum. Neither side tried its hand at battle here and the success of the Flavians was decided elsewhere.
6. Antonius began his lightning invasion of Italy with some detachments from the cohorts and a part of the cavalry. He was accompanied by Arrius Varus, a vigorous military man whose reputation had been enhanced by service under Corbulo and successes in Armenia.7 Yet he was also said to have denounced Corbulo’s integrity in the course of private conversations with Nero. As a result of this discreditable action, he ingratiated himself with the emperor and earned himself the post of senior centurion, but although these dubious prizes made him happy for the present, they later came to ruin him.
However, Primus and Varus occupied Aquileia, and in the neighbouring towns, and at Opitergium and Altinum, they were warmly welcomed. A garrison was left at Altinum against a possible threat from the Ravenna fleet, whose defection had not yet been heard about.8 After that, Patavium and Ateste joined the cause. At the latter place it was learnt that three Vitellian cohorts and a regiment of cavalry (the Sebosian) had encamped at Forum Alieni9 after building a bridge there. This seemed a good chance to strike at an unwary foe, for that too was in the report. At first light the Flavians fell upon the enemy while they were still mostly unarmed. Instructions had been given that only a few should be killed and the rest frightened into changing sides; and in fact some surrendered immediately, although the majority managed to halt the enemy’s advance by cutting the bridge.
7. When this victory became public knowledge and the first engagement in the war was seen to have been decided in favour of the Flavians, the Seventh (Galbian) and Thirteenth (Twin) Legions, with the latter’s commander Vedius Aquila, moved briskly to Patavium. There a few days were spent resting, and Minicius Justus, the camp prefect of the Seventh Legion, a disciplinarian who kept the troops on too tight a rein for civil war, was rescued from the anger of his troops and sent to Vespasian. A long-desired step was then taken, and indeed the positive comment it aroused lent it an exaggerated prestige. Antonius gave orders that the portraits of Galba, which had been overthrown due to the civil wars, should be restored to honour in all the towns. He believed that it would enhance their cause if people believed that the Flavians approved of Galba’s principate and that his followers were regaining influence.
8. The next question was the selection of a base. Verona seemed preferable because the open territory around it lent itself to cavalry combat, in which the Flavians excelled. Moreover, to deprive Vitellius of a rich city seemed a practical step and good propaganda. Vicetia was occupied as the troops passed through. This was a small incident given the modest resources of the town, but significant in the eyes of observers who reflected that Caecina was born there and that the enemy commander had thus lost control of his native place. Verona was a real prize. Its people helped the Flavian cause by their example and material support: and the army, by inserting itself between Raetia and the Julian Alps, had established a blockade so that there was no way through for the German forces by that route.
These steps were taken either without Vespasian’s knowledge or else against his instructions. For his orders were to halt the advance at Aquileia and to wait for Mucianus, and he reinforced his command by an explanation of his strategy. Now that he had at his disposal both Egypt, which held the key to the corn supply, and the revenues of the richest provinces, Vitellius’ army could be forced to its knees by lack of pay and supplies.10 Mucianus gave the same advice in repeated letters. He put up a good smoke-screen by advocating a bloodless victory without casualties and so on, but in fact he was hungry for glory and keen to monopolize all the prestige of the war. Yet, because of the great distances involved, official instructions tended to arrive after events had already happened.
9. … 11 so by a sudden assault Antonius overran the enemy outposts, and after a small skirmish which put the fighting spirit of the combatants to the test, both sides disengaged on an even basis. After this, Caecina set up a fortified camp between Hostilia (a village in the territory of Verona) and the marshes of the River Tartaro, choosing a safe spot protected in the rear by a river12 and on the flanks by a barrier of marshland. Had he been a loyal general, he could have used his concentrated Vitellian forces to crush the two enemy legions not yet reinforced by the army of Moesia; or else he could have driven back the Flavians and inflicted on them an ignominious retreat and the evacuation of Italy. However, Caecina contrived various delays and allowed the enemy to gain the initiative in the opening phases of the campaign. All the while he denounced in official dispatches an army which it was quite feasible to rout by force of arms until such a time as he could secure his treacherous deal with the enemy by means of his emissaries. During this lull, Aponius Saturninus arrived on the scene with the Seventh (Claudian) Legion, which was commanded by Vipstanus Messalla, a distinguished man from a famous family, and the only one to contribute an element of integrity to this campaign.13 This then was the force – far inferior to the Vitellians and still only numbering three legions – to which Caecina sent his letters criticizing the folly of fighting for lost causes. At the same time, he lavishly praised the valour of the German army, seldom mentioning Vitellius and only in a perfunctory way, while refraining from all abuse of Vespasian. There was absolutely nothing here either to entice or to frighten the enemy. In their reply, the Flavian commanders made no attempt to justify their earlier defeat, but spoke up valiantly for Vespasian and boldly for their cause, expressing confidence in their army and displaying undisguised hostility towards Vitellius, although his tribunes and centurions were offered the hope of retaining any favours he had granted, and Caecina himself was openly encouraged to desert. Reading out this correspondence publicly in the parade-ground raised Flavian morale, since Caecina’s tone was meek, as if he were afraid to offend Vespasian, whereas their own officers had written expressing their scorn and appeared to be insulting Vitellius.
10. When in due course two more Flavian legions appeared – the Third, led by Dillius Aponianus, and the Eighth, led by Numisius Lupus – they decided to make a show of strength and provide Verona with an outer rampart. The task of building this rampart on the side facing the enemy happened to fall to the Galbian Legion, and when some allied cavalry were spotted in the distance and taken to be enemies, this caused a false alarm. Fearing treachery, the legionaries grabbed weapons and turned the full weight of their anger on Tampius Flavianus. There was no proof for their accusation, but he had long been unpopular, and in a barrage of shouting they demanded his death. They screamed that here was a relative of Vitellius, a traitor against Otho, and the crook who had taken their bounty! He had no chance to defend himself, although he stretched out his hands in supplication, almost prostrate on the ground, his clothes torn, his chest heaving and his lips quivering with inarticulate sobs. This in itself spurred on the hostile men, for they took his excessive panic to be the sign of a guilty conscience. When Aponius tried to speak to them, his words were engulfed amidst the yelling men. They rebuffed other officers with jeers and shouts. To Antonius alone the soldiers’ ears were open, for he was not only eloquent and had the knack of soothing a mob, but he also inspired respect as a leader. When the mutiny began to get out of hand and the troops passed from abuse and insult to arms and action, he ordered Flavianus to be put in chains. The soldiers saw through the farce, and scattering the guards around the officers’ platform, they prepared for a lynching. Antonius put himself in their way with drawn sword and swore that he would die either at his troops’ hands or his own. Whenever he saw a soldier known to him personally and wearing some decoration for valour, he appealed to him by name for help. Then, turning to the standards and the gods of war,14 he prayed that they might inflict such fury and discord upon the armies of the enemy instead. Gradually the mutiny began to peter out, and with the gathering dusk the men slipped off to their separate tents. Flavianus left the same night, and after encountering a messenger bearing a letter from Vespasian, his danger came to an end.15
11. The rot was infectious, for the legionaries now attacked Aponius Saturninus, who commanded the forces from Moesia, and they did so all the more violently because their tempers had flared up at midday – not, as previously, in the evening, when they were exhausted by the physical labour of digging. The cause was the circulation of some correspondence which Saturninus was believed to have written to Vitellius. Although Roman soldiers had once competed in courage and discipline, now their rivalry was in insolence and insubordination – they wanted to be sure that they bayed for Aponius’ blood no less violently than for Flavianus’ life. The Moesian legionaries remembered that they had assisted the men of Pannonia to settle scores, while the Pannonian troops felt that the mutiny of others excused their own and so were happy to commit a second offence. They made for the mansion in which Saturninus was staying.16 Primus, Aponianus and Messalla did their best, but it was not so much their efforts that saved Saturninus as the dark hiding place in which he was skulking – he had concealed himself in the furnace-house of some baths which happened to be empty. Afterwards, he got rid of his lictors and escaped to Patavium. Thanks to the departure of the two consular governors, Antonius alone now had effective control of both armies, for his colleagues yielded to him and the troops backed him with enthusiasm. There were some people who believed that Antonius had incited both these mutinies in order to enjoy sole command over the campaign.
12. On the Vitellian side, too, the mood was unsettled. Here the turmoil was even more fatal, since it sprang less from the suspicions of the men than from the treachery of their leaders. Lucilius Bassus commanded the Ravenna fleet, whose men were wavering, since many came from Dalmatia and Pannonia, and these provinces were now held by Vespasian. So the admiral had brought them over to the Flavian cause. Night-time was chosen for the act of treachery, so that the conspirators could meet in the headquarters building by themselves without the knowledge of the others. Bassus himself, whether he was ashamed or afraid of how the plot would turn out, was waiting for the end result in his house. During a chaotic outbreak, the naval captains attacked the portraits of Vitellius, and when the few who offered resistance had been cut down, the rest of the men, who were keen on a change, came over to Vespasian. That was when Lucilius Bassus appeared and publicly put himself at the head of the movement. However, the marines chose Cornelius Fuscus, who had speedily hurried to the base, as their commander. As for Bassus, he was put under open arrest and taken in a fast flotilla as far as Atria. Here he was imprisoned by Memmius Rufinus,17 who commanded a regiment of cavalry in the town, but his chains were promptly struck off by the intervention of the imperial freedman Hormus: he, too, was regarded as one of the generals.
13. To return to Caecina: when the defection of the fleet became known, he summoned to headquarters the senior centurions and a few of the soldiers, seizing upon a time when the camp was empty and the rest of the troops were scattered on their various duties. There he spoke highly of Vespasian’s valour and the strength of his followers, whereas on their side, he pointed out, the fleet had changed allegiance, supplies were short, the Gallic and Spanish provinces hostile and Rome was thoroughly unreliable. He put a pessimistic spin on every aspect of Vitellius’ position. Then, as those who were in the plot took the lead in swearing allegiance to Vespasian, Caecina made the others do the same while they were still shocked by the sudden turn of events. At the same time, Vitellius’ portraits were torn down and the news sent to Antonius. However, the treasonable act became the talk of the entire camp, and as the men rushed back to the headquarters building they saw that Vespasian’s name had been written up and Vitellius’ portraits thrown down. At first, there was a great menacing hush, then one great explosion of protest. Had the dignity of the German army sunk so low, they cried, that without a battle, without a single blow, they were tamely to put their hands into chains and surrender their weapons to the captors? After all, what sort of legions could the other side muster? Surely these were beaten men? Besides, the only strong formations in Otho’s army, the First and Fourteenth, were not there, although even these they had routed and cut to pieces on those very plains. Were many thousands of armed men to be handed over as a gift to the outlaw Antonius, like a gang of slaves bought and sold in the market? It seemed that eight legions were to be the appendage of one miserable fleet! That was what Bassus wanted, that was what Caecina wanted – after stealing palaces, villas and fortunes from Vitellius, they were now determined to rob the troops of their emperor, and the emperor of his troops! Unscathed and unscarred, cheap even in the eyes of the Flavians, what would they say to those who legitimately demanded to see the balance sheet of victory or defeat?18
14. Such were the cries of indignation that sprang from one and all. Following the lead given by the Fifth Legion, they restored the portraits of Vitellius, put Caecina in chains, elected as their leaders Fabius Fabullus, commanding officer of the Fifth, and Cassius Longus, the prefect of the camp, and massacred the crews of three galleys who chanced to cross their path, ignorant and innocent of what had happened. Then, after abandoning their camp and cutting the bridge,19 they marched back to Hostilia and from there to Cremona to join the First Italian and Twenty-First Hurricane Legions, which Caecina had sent ahead with part of the cavalry to hold Cremona.
15. When news of this reached Antonius, he decided to attack the enemy forces while they were still emotionally unbalanced and their resources were separated. He could not wait until their leaders recovered their hold and the troops their discipline, or until a rendezvous restored confidence. He reckoned that Fabius Valens had left Rome and would increase his pace on learning of Caecina’s betrayal; and Fabius was faithful to Vitellius, as well as being a talented general. At the same time, the possible advance of large masses of Germans through Raetia was a frightening thought. As a matter of fact, Vitellius had indeed called for reinforcements from Britain, Gaul and Spain, presaging a war of boundless havoc, but Antonius, fearing this very possibility,20 snatched a timely victory by forcing an engagement. After two days’ march from Verona, he arrived at Bedriacum with his whole army. On the next day,21 keeping his legions back to entrench camp, he sent his auxiliary cohorts into the territory of Cremona, ostensibly to forage, but actually to acquire a taste for plundering Roman civilians. He himself, with 4,000 cavalry, advanced to a point eight miles from Bedriacum so that they could indulge in devastation with more freedom. The scouts, as usual, rushed on ahead.
16. It was about eleven in the morning when a rider galloped up with the news that the enemy was approaching, headed by a small advance party, and movement and tumult could be heard over a wide area. While Antonius was still debating a plan of action, Arrius Varus, who was impatient for results, dashed out with the keenest members of the cavalry and drove back the Vitellians, inflicting only slight losses. For as greater numbers hastened to the scene, the tables were turned, and the most eager of the pursuers now found themselves at the rear of the retreat. Such haste had not been Antonius’ wish, and he had all along been expecting what had in fact happened. Telling his men to engage the enemy with brave hearts, he moved his troops of horse to the flanks and left a free passage in the middle for Varus and his cavalry. The legions were ordered to take up arms. A trumpet-call was sounded throughout the area to indicate that the foragers should abandon their hunt for spoil and make for the fighting at the nearest point. Meanwhile, the frightened Varus linked up with the main body of cavalry, infecting it with his own panic. The fresh forces were driven back together with the wounded men, colliding with one another because of their own panic and the narrowness of the roads. 17. In this chaos Antonius did whatever a resolute general or brave soldier could do, confronting the panic-stricken and holding back the fugitives.22 Where most effort was required, or where there was any glimmer of hope, by his strategy, his fighting and his shouting he made himself a marked man in the eyes of the enemy and a beacon to his own men. Finally, he got so fired up that he thrust a spear through a retreating standard-bearer, then caught up the flag and turned it to face the enemy. Ashamed by this, some troopers, numbering no more than a hundred, stood their ground. The place helped them, since the road narrowed at that point and a bridge had been destroyed – and the stream which flowed between the two armies made escape difficult because of its slippery bed and steep banks. This circumstance, whether we call it necessity or luck, gave fresh heart to a side which was apparently already beaten. They formed up in close ranks and met the rash and scattered charges of the Vitellians. It was now the enemy’s turn to suffer disaster. Antonius assailed his devastated opponents and laid low those who confronted him, while his troops, according to their individual character, plundered the fallen, took prisoners or carried off weapons and horses. Indeed, their exulting cries alerted those who had just now been scattering over the countryside in flight, and they too got involved in the victorious action.
18. Four miles from Cremona, the glint of standards marked the approach of the Hurricane and Italian Legions, which had marched out as far as this during the initial success of their cavalry. However, when luck turned against them, they did not open out their ranks, they did not receive their disorganized comrades and they did not advance, nor take the initiative in attacking an enemy exhausted by marching and fighting over such a great distance. If they had, perhaps they would have won.23 When things were going well, they had not seriously felt their lack of a commander, but now, at the crisis point, they realized it to the full. As the front ranks wavered, the victorious cavalry charged into them, closely followed by the tribune Vipstanus Messalla leading the auxiliaries from Moesia, who had been brought up by a forced march which many of the legionaries had matched despite its lightning pace. Thus a mixed force of infantry and cavalry broke through the column of Vitellian legions, to whom the nearby walls of Cremona offered greater hope of escape and correspondingly less will to resist. However, Antonius did not press home his advantage, being mindful of the exhaustion and wounds inflicted on the cavalry and their horses during a fight in which the chances had gone both ways, despite their final success.
19. As evening was falling, the Flavian army arrived in full strength. After marching over the heaps of dead and the fresh traces of slaughter, they felt as if the fighting was over and clamoured to proceed to Cremona where they could receive, or enforce, the surrender of the beaten enemy. This at any rate was their fine-sounding talk in public, but each man was thinking to himself something rather different: a city situated on a plain could be stormed, and if they burst in during the hours of darkness, they would be just as brave, but they would enjoy greater licence to plunder. If, however, they waited until light, there would be peace terms and appeals for mercy, and in return for all their exertion and wounds, the only recompense would be the useless glory of having granted clemency, while the riches of Cremona would be pocketed by the auxiliary and legionary commanders. When a city was stormed, its booty fell to the troops; if it surrendered, the profit went to the commanders. So they ignored their centurions and tribunes, and drowned out any protests by clashing their weapons to indicate that they would mutiny if they were not led onwards.
20. Then Antonius pushed his way into the thick of the companies. When his appearance and prestige had secured silence, he assured them that he had no intention of robbing such deserving troops of credit or reward, but added that commanders and men had different functions to perform.24 A fighting spirit was excellent in soldiers, but commanders more often rendered service by deliberation and caution than by recklessness. In the past he had done his bit to secure victory by fighting with sword in hand, but in the future he would serve them by calculation and planning, which were the proper attributes of a general. There was no question about the dangers confronting them – darkness, the layout of an unfamiliar city and, within it, an enemy enjoying every chance for a surprise attack. Even if the gates were wide open, they must not enter except after a reconnaissance, and by day. Or did they propose to begin the attack blindfold, without knowing the favourable approaches or the height of the walls, or whether the assault upon the city called for catapults and missiles or siege-works and moveable defences? Antonius then turned to individuals, asking one man after another whether he had brought with him axes and picks and all the other equipment necessary for storming cities. When they shook their heads, he retorted: ‘Can brute strength breach and undermine walls with swords and javelins? Suppose it proves necessary to build a mound, suppose we must shelter behind screens and hurdles: are we going to stand about helplessly like an unsuspecting crowd, admiring the height of the towers and our opponents’ defences? Why not wait just for one night, bring up the catapults and engines and then sweep forward carrying victory with us by force?’ Without further ado, Antonius sent the camp-followers and servants back to Bedriacum with the freshest members of the cavalry to bring up supplies and anything else that was likely to be useful.
21. This indeed was almost too much for the men, who were on the verge of mutiny when the cavalry, riding right up to the walls of Cremona, captured some drifters from the town who told them that six Vitellian legions – that is the whole army which had previously been stationed at Hostilia – had covered thirty miles that very day, and on hearing of the defeat of their comrades were now arming for battle and would turn up at any moment. It was this frightening report that opened the deaf ears of the troops so that they listened to their commander’s advice. He ordered the Thirteenth Legion to take up a position on the actual embankment of the Postumian Way. In contact on its left stood the Seventh Galbian Legion on open ground, then the Seventh Claudian, its front protected by one of the drainage ditches (such was the character of the area). On the right were the Eighth, deployed along a side road without cover, and after that the Third, interspersed among a dense plantation of trees. This at least was the order in which the eagles and standards were placed; the troops themselves were mixed up haphazardly in the darkness. The contingent of praetorians lay next to the Third, with the auxiliary cohorts on the flanks of the line and the cavalry protecting the wings and rear. The Suebians, Sido and Italicus, patrolled the front line with a picked force of their countrymen.
22. As for the Vitellian army, reason dictated that it should rest at Cremona. After some food and sleep to recover its strength, it could have attacked and annihilated the shivering and hungry enemy on the next morning. Yet it had no leader and no plan of action. Shortly before nine at night, the Vitellians hurled themselves violently at the enemy, who were prepared and already in position. I should hesitate to give conclusive evidence about the Vitellian order of battle, which was chaotic because of the fury and darkness, although others have recorded that their right front was held by the Fourth Macedonian Legion, their centre by the Fifth and Fifteenth supported by detachments of the Ninth, Second and Twentieth Legions from Britain, and their left front by the men of the Sixteenth, Twenty-Second and First Legions. Elements of the Hurricane and Italian Legions had attached themselves to all the companies, while the cavalry and auxiliaries chose their own posts.
Throughout the night, the fighting was varied, indecisive and bitter, inflicting destruction first on one side and then on the other. Clear heads and strong arms did not help at all, and even their eyes could not penetrate the darkness. On both sides weapons and uniform were identical,25 frequent challenges and replies disclosed the watchword and flags were inextricably confused as they were captured by this group or that and carried hither and thither. The formation under heaviest pressure was the Seventh Legion recently raised by Galba. Six centurions of the leading companies were killed and a few standards lost. Even the eagle was only saved by the senior centurion Atilius Varus, who slaughtered many of the enemy, but then finally was killed himself.
23. Antonius stiffened the wavering line by bringing up the praetorians. After taking up the fighting, they drove back the enemy, only to be driven back themselves. The reason for this was that the Vitellians had concentrated their artillery upon the high road so as to command an unobstructed field of fire over the open ground. Their shooting had at first been sporadic, and the shots had struck the trees without hurting the enemy. The Sixteenth Legion26 had an enormous catapult which hurled massive stones and was now mowing down the enemy battleline. It would have inflicted extensive havoc but for a conspicuous act of daring on the part of two soldiers. They concealed their identity by seizing shields from the dead enemies, and severed the torsion springs by which the catapult was operated. They were cut down immediately and so their names have perished, but there is no doubt that the deed was done.
Fortune had not favoured either side, until in the middle of the night the moon rose, displaying – and deceiving – the combatants.27 However, as the moonlight shone from behind the Flavians, it favoured them; on their side the shadows of horses and men were exaggerated, and the enemy weapons fell short because they mistakenly thought that they were on target to hit actual bodies. The Vitellians, on the other hand, were brilliantly illuminated by the light shining full in their faces, and so, without realizing it, they provided an easy mark for an enemy aiming from what were virtually concealed positions.
24. Therefore, since Antonius and his men could now recognize each other, he spurred on some by shameful taunts, many by praise and encouragement, all by hope and promises. Why, he asked the Pannonian legions, had they taken up arms again? These were the very battlefields where they could wash away the stain of past humiliating defeat and restore their glorious reputation. Then, turning to the troops from Moesia, he called on them as the leaders and architects of the campaign: they had challenged the Vitellians by threats and words, but this meant nothing if they could not bear their looks and attacks. This is what he said as he reached the successive contingents; but he spoke at greater length to the men of the Third Legion, reminding them of their early and recent history, how under Mark Antony they had beaten the Parthians, under Corbulo the Armenians, and in the immediate past the Sarmatians. Then he provoked the praetorians. ‘As for you,’ he said, ‘you soldiers are mere civilians unless you beat the enemy. What other emperor and what other camp will you have to protect you? There on the battlefield are the standards and equipment which are really yours. Death is waiting if you are defeated, for you have already drunk your full measure of disgrace.’
Everywhere there were cheers of enthusiasm, and as the sun rose, the men of the Third saluted it in accordance with the Syrian custom.28 25. This generated a rumour from an uncertain source (or perhaps it was intentionally spread by the Flavian commander) that Mucianus had arrived and that the two armies had been greeting one another in turn. The men moved forward thinking that they had been reinforced by fresh troops, while the Vitellian line was now thinner than before, as one might expect of a force which in the absence of all leadership bunched and spread according to individual impulse or panic. When Antonius sensed that the enemy was under pressure, he threw them into confusion by using massed columns of troops. The disintegrating ranks broke and could not be closed again because vehicles and catapults were getting in the way. Down the long straight road the victors charged, drawing away from each other in the fervour of pursuit.
That massacre was particularly notable because of an incident where a son killed his own father.29 I shall give details of the event and the names of the protagonists on the authority of Vipstanus Messalla. Julius Mansuetus from Spain had joined the Hurricane Legion, leaving a young son at home. Soon after, the boy came of age, and having been conscripted by Galba for service in the Seventh, happened to encounter his father in this battle and laid him low with a wound. As he was looking over the half-dead man, the pair recognized one another. Embracing his father’s corpse, the son prayed in words choked by sobs that his father’s spirit would be appeased and not turn against him as a parricide. This crime was down to the state, he cried, and one soldier was only a tiny fraction of the forces engaged in civil war. With these words, he took up the body, dug a grave and performed his final duty to his father. The nearest soldiers noticed this, then more and more; and so throughout the ranks spread astonishment, complaints and cursing of this cruellest of all wars. However, this did not mean that they killed and robbed relatives, kinsmen and brothers any more slowly: they denounced the crime that had been committed, but still carried out the same crime themselves.
26. When the Flavians reached Cremona, a new and formidable task confronted them. During the war with Otho, the troops from Germany had built a camp near the walls of Cremona and a rampart round the camp; and since then, they had strengthened these defences still further. This sight gave the victors pause and the officers were uncertain what orders to issue. To begin the assault with an army exhausted by a long day and night seemed difficult, and, if no reserves were standing by, dangerous. If, on the other hand, they were to return to Bedriacum, the impact of such a long and exhausting march would be intolerable and meant throwing away their victory. Even entrenching camp was a fearful prospect with the enemy so close, for there was the threat that scattered parties of men engaged in digging would be thrown into disorder by a sudden sortie. Yet the factor that terrified the generals above all was their own troops, who would rather endure danger than delay. For the men felt that playing safe was dull, but taking a chance offered possibilities. Whatever the cost in death and wounds and bloodshed, it counted for nothing compared with their greed for plunder.
27. Antonius was inclined to agree, and ordered a ring of troops to surround the rampart. At first they fought at a distance by unleashing arrows and stones at one another, which caused greater damage to the Flavians, against whom weapons plunged down from above. Then Antonius assigned the different legions to separate sections of the rampart and gates so that a division of labour might sort out the brave from the cowardly and fire up the men by a competition for honour. The area nearest to the road to Bedriacum was allotted to the men of the Third and Seventh Legions, and the wall further to the right to the Eighth and Seventh Claudian Legions, while the detachments of the Thirteenth advanced impetuously as far as the Brixian gate. There was a slight delay after that, while some of the legionaries collected mattocks and axes from the adjacent fields, and others hooks and ladders. Then, lifting their shields above their heads, they moved up in a tight testudo arrangement.30 Both sides used Roman fighting techniques. The Vitellians rolled down heavy stones, and then, when the testudo was split and wavering, probed it with lances and poles until the compact structure of shields fell apart and they could flatten their bleeding or maimed opponents with deadly slaughter. The Flavian attack began to slacken, but their generals, finding the men worn out and deaf to exhortations which seemed pointless, pointed suggestively to Cremona.31 28. (I find it difficult to decide whether this ingenious suggestion came from Hormus, as Messalla tells us, or whether in his accusation of Antonius, Gaius Plinius is the more authoritative source.32 The only clear thing is that neither Antonius nor Hormus went against the grain of his reputation and way of life in committing this appalling crime.) Henceforward, bloodshed and wounds could not check the Flavians’ determination to undermine the rampart and shatter the gates. Climbing on one another’s shoulders and mounting on top of the re-formed testudo, they grasped at the enemy’s weapons and limbs. The unwounded and wounded, the maimed and the dying were all piled together in a shifting kaleidoscope of death and destruction of every variety.
29. The keenest competition was between the Third and Seventh Legions, so the general Antonius at the head of a picked auxiliary force pressed the attack in this sector. Their grim rivalry in the offensive was too much for the Vitellians, while the missiles hurled down on the testudo glanced harmlessly off, so finally the defenders tipped over the catapult itself upon the enemy beneath. For the moment this made a gap, as it crushed the men on whom it fell, but it also took with it in its fall the battlements and the upper part of the wall, and at the same time an adjacent tower succumbed to a hail of stones. Here, while the men of the Seventh pressed the attack in close formation, the soldiers of the Third managed to break through the gate with their axes and swords. There is agreement between all our authorities that the first to penetrate the camp was Gaius Volusius, a soldier of the Third Legion. He climbed up to the rampart, threw down any men still attempting resistance and, waving and yelling to attract attention, cried out that the camp was captured. The others, now that the Vitellians were on the run and hurling themselves headlong from the rampart, surged through to join him. Whatever space there was between the camp and the walls of Cremona was filled with slaughter.
30. Once again now an unfamiliar setting for their labours confronted the Flavians: lofty city-walls, towers made of stone, iron barriers to the gates, a garrison brandishing its weapons and Cremona’s teeming populace devoted to the Vitellian cause, as well as a crowd of visitors from the whole of Italy who had flocked to the fair regularly held at that time of year – their numbers proved helpful to the defence and their wealth an allurement to the assailants. Antonius ordered torches to be brought quickly and applied to the most attractive buildings outside the city to see if the people of Cremona might be persuaded to change sides by the loss of their property. Those buildings that stood close to the walls and overlooked them he filled with his best troops, who dislodged the defenders with joists, tiles and blazing torches.
31. Some of the legionaries were already forming up into a testudo formation and others were discharging missiles and stones, when the morale of the Vitellians gradually began to fade. The higher the rank, the less the will to resist the inevitable. They feared that if Cremona, too, were taken by storm, there would be no further possibility of pardon and the conqueror’s anger would fall entirely on the tribunes and centurions (where killing was profitable) rather than on the lower ranks who had nothing to lose. The common soldiers stood firm, not caring about the future and thinking themselves relatively safe because they were unknown. Roaming through the streets or hidden in houses, these men refused to ask for peace even when they had laid aside war. The camp prefects took down the name and portraits of Vitellius. They removed the chains from Caecina, who was still imprisoned even at that point, and begged him to plead for the Vitellians’ cause. When he arrogantly refused, they wore down his resistance with tearful requests, which was the utmost iniquity – all those supremely brave men begging for help from a traitor. Soon after, they displayed from the walls olive branches and priestly headbands to indicate their surrender.33 Once Antonius had given the order to stop fighting, the Vitellians brought out their standards and eagles. These were followed by a dejected column of disarmed men with downcast eyes. The victors had crowded around them, initially jeering and aiming blows at them, but after a while, when the defeated men faced up to the insults and impassively endured everything, the Flavians remembered that this was the army which, not long previously, had shown restraint after its victory at Bedriacum. However, when Caecina stepped forward in his capacity as consul, distinguished by his bordered toga and lictors, who thrust aside the crowd, the victors flew into a rage. They taunted him as arrogant and cruel, and on top of that, as a traitor (so hated is that crime). Antonius intervened, and sent him off to Vespasian with an escort.
32. Meanwhile the people of Cremona were being roughed up by the armed troops, and it was only when a massacre was imminent that the appeals of the generals managed to calm the men. Moreover, Antonius summoned the soldiers to a parade, addressing the victors proudly and the vanquished with clemency, but he did not give any clear indication about the fate of Cremona. Quite apart from the army’s natural taste for plunder, the soldiers were bent on wiping out the Cremonese, thanks to an old score. It was believed that the town had also aided the Vitellians during the war against Otho; and later the men of the Thirteenth, left there to build an amphitheatre, had been the target of their mockery and insults (this sort of conduct was typical of impudent city mobs).34 The Flavians’ resentment was sharpened by a gladiatorial show Caecina had given at Cremona, its renewed employment as a base and the way in which they offered the Vitellians food in the fighting line. This had involved the death of certain women who in their enthusiasm for the cause had gone out onto the battlefield. In addition to this, it was the season of the fair, so a city which was in any case opulent was stuffed with an even greater display of wealth. The other generals were shadowy figures, but Antonius’ success and reputation had placed him completely in the public gaze. He hurried off to the baths to wash away the bloodstains from the battle, and there, as he grumbled about the temperature of the water, he was overheard to say: ‘Luke-warm! Things will heat up soon enough, though.’ This cheap joke was a magnet for everyone’s hatred, for people thought that he had given the signal to set fire to Cremona, which was in fact already burning.
33. Forty thousand armed men burst into the city, accompanied by servants and camp-followers in greater numbers who were even more viciously addicted to lust and violence.35 Neither rank nor age saved the victims: rape alternated sickeningly with murder and murder with rape. Elderly men and frail old women, who had no value as loot, were dragged off to raise a laugh. Any marriageable girl or good-looking lad who crossed their path was torn this way and that between the violent hands of would-be captors, until finally the plunderers themselves destroyed one another. Anyone hauling off money or temple offerings laden with gold was often cut to pieces by other looters who were stronger. Some, turning up their noses at the obvious finds, hunted out hidden valuables and dug for buried treasures after flogging and torturing the property owners. In their hands they held flaming torches, and once they had carried out their booty they wantonly flung these into the empty houses and the temples which had been stripped bare. Since the army was a mixture of citizens, allies and foreigners with different languages and habits, the men manifested a correspondingly diverse array of wild desires and had wide-ranging conceptions of what was right, even if there was no kind of wrongdoing that they ruled out. Cremona lasted them four days. While all its buildings, sacred and secular, collapsed in flames, only the Temple of Mefitis outside the walls remained standing, defended by its position or the power of the divinity.36
34. Such, then, was the fate of Cremona, 286 years after its first beginnings. It had been founded in the consulship of Tiberius Sempronius and Publius Cornelius,37 at the time when Hannibal was menacing Italy, to serve as a fortification against the Gauls living north of the Po or any other violent invasion by way of the Alps. As it turned out, the abundance of settlers, the convenient presence of rivers and the fertility of its territory, as well as kinship and intermarriage with the local tribes, made it grow and flourish, but a city which had been unscathed by foreign invasion proved unlucky in civil wars.
Antonius, ashamed of this criminal act and worried by the mounting resentment, issued a proclamation that no one should keep prisoner a citizen of Cremona. Indeed, the troops had already found their booty useless to them owing to a concerted refusal throughout Italy to buy slaves of this sort, so they began to murder them. When this became known, the prisoners were stealthily ransomed by their relatives by blood or marriage. In due course, the surviving inhabitants returned to Cremona. The squares and temples were restored thanks to the generosity of other Italian towns; and Vespasian gave them his encouragement.38
35. However, since the ground was tainted with putrid matter, it was impossible to encamp for long by the ruins of the dead city. The Flavians moved out three miles, and formed up the frightened and straggling Vitellians in their respective units. The defeated legions were dispersed throughout Illyricum, in case they engaged in suspicious activities while the civil war was still being mopped up. Next, messengers were sent with the news to Britain and the Spanish provinces. Julius Calenus, a tribune, was dispatched to Gaul, and Alpinius Montanus, a cohort commander, to Germany. Since Montanus was a Treviran and Calenus an Aeduan, while both were former supporters of Vitellius, the intention was to make a decisive show of Vespasian’s victory. At the same time, the Alpine passes were garrisoned out of concern that Germany might stir herself to come to the aid of Vitellius.
36. Once Vitellius had induced Fabius Valens to leave for the front a few days after Caecina’s departure,39 he camouflaged his worries in luxurious living. He made no preparations for war and failed to toughen his troops by addressing or training them. He did not spend time in the public eye, but hid himself away in the shady retreat of his gardens, and just like those miserable animals that are content to lie and doze so long as food is put in front of them, he let everything slide and was equally oblivious to past, present and future. As he sat there idly and apathetically among the groves of Aricia, the news of Bassus’ betrayal and the defection of the Ravenna fleet proved utterly shocking. Not long afterwards, reports about Caecina’s desertion and then his arrest by the army filled him with a combination of gloom and joy. In such a feeble character, happiness outweighed concern. Exultantly he rode back to Rome, and before a crowded assembly he heaped praises on the devotion of his troops. He gave orders that Publilius Sabinus, the praetorian prefect, should be arrested because of his friendship with Caecina, and Alfenus Varus was appointed as his replacement.
37. Vitellius then addressed the senate in a speech carefully designed to impress, and the senators commended him with studied flattery. Lucius Vitellius set in motion a move for a severe ruling against Caecina. The others soon joined in and expressed studied outrage against the consul who had betrayed the state, against the general who had betrayed his emperor and against the man piled high with so much wealth and honour who had betrayed his friend and benefactor. They were pretending to protest on behalf of Vitellius, but they were really expressing their own annoyance.40 Not a single speaker reproached the Flavian generals, but blaming the armies for their misguided lack of judgement, they anxiously used roundabout language and avoided mentioning Vespasian’s name. There was even a senator who wheedled himself into a consulship lasting one day (for that was what still remained from Caecina’s tenure), which earned both donor and recipient huge ridicule. On 31 October, Rosius Regulus entered – and resigned – office. Constitutional experts noted that never before had a suffect magistrate been appointed without the formal cancellation of the magistracy by legislation before the people.41 That was the novelty, for there had been a one-day consul before, namely Caninius Rebilus under Julius Caesar’s dictatorship, at a time when rewards for services in the civil war were being hurriedly distributed.
38. Around this time, the fact that Junius Blaesus had died became known and generated much talk.42 This is what I have heard about it. Vitellius was lying seriously ill at his house in the Servilian Park when he noticed that a lofty neighbouring dwelling was ablaze with umpteen lights which shone through the night. On enquiring the reason, he was told that Caecina Tuscus was holding a large dinner-party, and that the guest of honour was Junius Blaesus. His informants gave an exaggerated account of lavish display and a relaxed and convivial atmosphere. Critics readily came forward to denounce Tuscus himself and others, but particularly venomous charges were laid against Blaesus for spending his days in merriment while the emperor was ill. There are always people who keep a sharp lookout for signs of an emperor’s displeasure. When it became clear enough to them that Vitellius had been provoked and that Blaesus could be ruined, they assigned the role of informer to Lucius Vitellius. He was Blaesus’ enemy, bitterly jealous of a man whose excellent reputation towered above his own life, sordidly marked by every type of scandal. Lucius suddenly flung open the door of the emperor’s bedroom and knelt down before him, clasping Vitellius’ young son in his arms. When Vitellius asked him what the trouble was, he said that it was not because of his own personal fears and private anxieties that he had brought his tearful appeals, but from concern for his brother and his brother’s children. There was no point in fearing Vespasian: all those German legions, all those brave and loyal provinces, a huge and immeasurable sweep of land and sea served as a defence against him. It was in Rome and in his own intimate circle where the emperor must guard against an enemy who boasted the Junii and Antonii as his ancestors, and who sought to show himself off to the soldiers as an affable and generous member of a ruling family. He was the centre of all public attention, while Vitellius, paying no attention to who were his friends and who were his enemies, was nurturing a rival who contemplated the emperor’s sufferings from a banqueting table. This man should pay the price for such untimely festivity by a night of misery and death, in which he would learn to his cost that Vitellius was still alive and still emperor, with a son to succeed him in the event of his death.43
39. Vitellius was hesitating between murder and his fear that if he postponed Blaesus’ execution his own ruin might soon follow; but to order it openly would cause a terrible scandal, so he decided it was best to use poison. What made people believe him guilty was the conspicuous pleasure he took in visiting Blaesus. Indeed, Vitellius was heard to make a most vicious remark, boasting that ‘he had feasted his eyes on the spectacle of his enemy’s death’. I quote his actual words.44
Blaesus not only came from an illustrious family and possessed gracious ways, but he was also stubbornly loyal. Even while Vitellius’ position was still sound, he was approached by Caecina and other prominent members of the party who were already turning against the emperor, but he persisted in refusing to join any plot. Despite being a model of goodness and a calm man who turned his back on any sudden promotion, let alone the principate, he had not been able to avoid being thought worthy of it.
40. Meanwhile, Fabius Valens, together with a long and luxurious train of prostitutes and eunuchs, was advancing at a pace too sluggish for a campaign when couriers arrived with the urgent news that the Ravenna fleet had been betrayed by Lucilius Bassus. If Valens, who had just started on his journey, had hurried, he could have caught up with Caecina in time to confront his wavering loyalty, or overtaken the legions before the decisive battle. Some of his colleagues did in fact advise him to take his trustiest men by secret tracks to Hostilia or Cremona, avoiding Ravenna. Others thought it best to summon the praetorians from Rome and break through the blockade in strength. Valens himself frittered away in deliberation days that called for action and merely waited, which was useless. Then, rejecting both proposals, he compromised, which is always the worst possible solution in a crisis, and failed to act with sufficient daring or caution. 41. He wrote to Vitellius to ask for reinforcements, and received three cohorts together with a cavalry regiment from Britain. This was a contingent too large to escape detection and too small to cut its way through.
Even at such a critical moment, ugly stories still circulated about Valens. People were convinced that he was grabbing forbidden pleasures and dishonouring the homes of his hosts by seducing their wives and sleeping with their offspring.45 He certainly had power and money on his side, and the urgent passion of a doomed man to have a final fling.
At last the arrival of the infantry and cavalry revealed how misguided his plan was, since he could not move straight through enemy territory with such a small force, even if it had been completely trustworthy, but these newcomers were of questionable loyalty. However, a sense of shame and the respect inspired by the presence of their commander restrained them for the time being – although these were ephemeral ties for men who feared danger and were unconcerned by dishonour. Scared by the situation, Valens sent the cohorts ahead to Ariminum and ordered the cavalry to protect the rear, while he himself accompanied by only a few companions who were steadfast amid disaster left the main road and made for Umbria and then Etruria. In Etruria he heard about the outcome of the battle of Cremona, and hatched a plan which actually showed some spirit and would have had dire consequences if it had worked. The idea was to seize some ships, land somewhere or other in the province of Narbonese Gaul and incite the Gallic provinces, the armies and the German tribes to renew the war.
42. Since Valens’ forces garrisoned at Ariminum were demoralized by his departure, Cornelius Fuscus moved up his troops, dispatched a fast naval force along the adjacent coast and surrounded the town by land and sea. The victors now occupied the Umbrian plain and the Adriatic seaboard of Picenum, so that the Apennines divided the whole of Italy between Vespasian and Vitellius. Fabius Valens set sail from the Portus Pisanus, but was compelled by sluggish seas or contrary wind to put in at the harbour of Hercules Monoecus. Not far from here was the base of Marius Maturus, the governor of the Maritime Alps and a staunch Vitellian who had not yet forgotten his oath of allegiance despite the hostility of the whole area around him.46 He welcomed Valens courteously, but warned his guest not to take the rash step of entering Narbonese Gaul. This frightened Valens, but at the same time the loyalty of his followers was now undermined by fear. 43. For Valerius Paulinus, the procurator, was an energetic soldier and he made the neighbouring communities swear allegiance to Vespasian, who had been his friend before his elevation to power. After recruiting all those who had been discharged from the praetorians by Vitellius, and who were only too ready to join the fight, Paulinus was now holding with his garrison the town of Forum Julii, the gateway which controlled the sea. His lead had all the more impact because this was his native town, and he was held in esteem by the praetorians whose commander he had once been. The civilians, too, favoured a fellow-townsman, and hoped that he would be in a position to pull strings for them in the future, so they supported the cause with enthusiasm. While these robust preparations were magnified by rumours which gained momentum among the wavering Vitellians, Fabius Valens, accompanied by four bodyguards, three friends and the same number of centurions, returned to the ships. Maturus and the rest were content to stay behind and take the oath to Vespasian. As for Valens, the sea seemed less dangerous than the coast and its towns, but his future plans were undecided, and he was more confident about what to avoid than whom to trust. In the event, bad weather forced him to land in the Stoechades, islands which belonged to Marseilles, and there a flotilla of fast galleys sent by Paulinus took him into custody.
44. With the capture of Valens the whole Roman world rallied to the winning side. The movement began in Spain with the First Adiutrix Legion, which remembered Otho and hated Vitellius: its lead was followed by the Tenth and Sixth. Nor were the Gallic provinces reluctant. Support also came from Britain, which was naturally inclined to support Vespasian, since he had been appointed by Claudius to command the Second Legion and had fought there with distinction.47 Even so, the other legions in Britain were restless, for they contained a number of centurions and soldiers who owed their promotion to Vitellius and were worried about accepting a new emperor in exchange for one they knew.
45. Thanks to these disagreements and the spate of rumours about civil war, the Britons plucked up courage, prompted by a man called Venutius, who, quite apart from his natural ferocity and a hatred of all things Roman, was being fired up by a personal feud with Queen Cartimandua. She was queen of the Brigantes, a powerful woman of noble descent whose influence had increased after her treacherous capture of King Caratacus had apparently paved the way for Claudius’ triumph.48 That meant wealth and the self-indulgence of prosperity. She tired of Venutius (he was her husband) and gave her hand and kingdom to his armour-bearer, Vellocatus. The royal house was instantly rocked by this scandal. The enthusiastic support of the people was at the disposal of the discarded husband, while the lover was backed by the cruel and lustful queen. So Venutius summoned help, and a simultaneous revolt on the part of the Brigantes themselves brought Cartimandua face to face with extreme danger. That was when she appealed for Roman assistance. In the event, our auxiliary cohorts of infantry and cavalry rescued the queen from a tight corner by fighting a number of battles with varying success. Venutius got the throne, and we were left with the fighting.
46. It was at this same time that trouble broke out in Germany, where the slackness of our commanders, the mutinous nature of our legions, foreign invasion and allied treachery nearly caused the downfall of Rome. This war, with its various causes and incidents – for it was a protracted struggle – I shall deal with in due course.49 There was also a disturbance among the Dacians. Never a trustworthy people, at that time they feared nothing as the Roman army had been withdrawn from Moesia.50 They looked on quietly at the initial phases of the civil war, but when they heard that Italy was ablaze with war and that everything was alternating in cycles of violence, they stormed the winter-quarters of the cohorts and cavalry, and began to occupy both banks of the Danube. They were just about to destroy the legionary camp as well, when Mucianus sent the Sixth Legion against them. He knew about the victory at Cremona, but was anxious in case a double foreign invasion threatened if the Dacians and the Germans had broken in from opposite directions. As so often at other times, Rome’s good fortune saved the day, having brought Mucianus on the scene with the forces of the East, and because meanwhile we settled matters at Cremona. Fonteius Agrippa, who had governed Asia as a proconsul for the normal period of one year, was appointed to administer Moesia, and was given additional forces from the army of Vitellius.51 To distribute this army among the provinces and to tie it down in a foreign war was an act at once of statesmanship and peace.
47. Nor did the other peoples of the empire keep quiet. In Pontus there had been a sudden uprising led by a foreign slave and one-time commander of the royal fleet called Anicetus. He was a freedman of Polemo,52 and having once been supremely powerful could not stomach the change which turned the kingdom into a Roman province. So, in the name of Vitellius, he called to arms the tribes which border on Pontus, luring on all the most destitute men to hope for plunder. At the head of a considerable force, he suddenly attacked Trapezus, an ancient and famous city founded by the Greeks at the farthest point of the Pontic coast. Here they slaughtered a cohort which had once formed part of the royal army but had later been given Roman citizenship as well as Roman standards and equipment, while retaining the idle and licentious habits of the Greeks. A rebel fleet added fresh fuel to the blaze, sailing where it pleased over the unpoliced sea, because Mucianus had withdrawn the best of the galleys and all the crews to Byzantium. Even the natives were insolently roving the seas in hastily constructed boats. These they call ‘arks’: they are narrow above the waterline, but broad in the beam, and constructed using neither bronze nor iron rivets. When the sea is choppy, as the waves get higher, they increase the height of these boats’ sides by adding planks successively, until they are wholly enclosed by a sort of roof. In this way, they ride the waves. The boats have identical prows fore and aft so they can be rowed in both directions since it makes no difference whether they are beached stern or bow first: either way is equally safe.53
48. This state of affairs alerted Vespasian. So he selected a special force drawn from his legions and placed it under the command of an experienced soldier called Virdius Geminus. As the enemy was chaotically scouring the countryside in an eager search for loot, Virdius surprised them and forced them to take to their ships. Then, hurriedly building galleys, he caught up with Anicetus at the mouth of the River Chobus, where he had been protected and helped by the king of the Sedochezi, who had been driven into an alliance by a money bribe and other gifts. Certainly at first the king used threats and armed force to protect his guest, but after it came to a choice between being paid for his treachery or waging full-scale war, his loyalty evaporated in typical barbarian fashion. He struck a bargain for the death of Anicetus, and surrendered the other fugitives. That put an end to this slavish war.
That victory made Vespasian happy, but just when everything seemed to be going more smoothly than he could possibly have hoped, news reached him in Egypt about the battle of Cremona. He hurried to Alexandria all the more quickly, with the intention of using starvation to put pressure on the shattered armies of Vitellius and the inhabitants of Rome, which depended on imports. To this end he was already preparing a naval and land invasion of the province of Africa, which is located on that same coast. By withholding the grain supplies, he was intending to impose famine and dissension on the enemy.54
49. So in a convulsion felt around the world, imperial power changed hands. Meanwhile, the behaviour of Antonius Primus degenerated sharply after Cremona. He thought that he had done enough to settle the war and that the rest would be easy – or perhaps, in a character like his, it needed success to reveal his greed, pride and other hidden vices. He pranced through Italy as if it were a conquered country, ingratiated himself with the legions as if they were his own, and in everything he did and said prepared his route to power. To give the troops a taste for licence, he allowed the legions to appoint replacement centurions for those who had been killed. Their votes selected all the most unruly types. The soldiers were no longer under the control of their generals: it was the generals who were swept along by the violent whims of the soldiers. These were seditious methods which were bound to ruin good discipline, and Antonius soon exploited them to enrich himself. Mucianus was approaching, but Antonius was not at all afraid, despite the fact that this was a more deadly mistake than if he had scorned Vespasian himself.55
50. However, as winter approached and the Po valley became waterlogged, his column marched along without heavy baggage. At Verona they left the main parties of the victorious legions, the wounded soldiers or those too old for action and a number of fit soldiers as well. It was thought that the auxiliary cohorts, cavalry and some specially chosen legionaries would be sufficient, as the war was by this time practically won. The Eleventh Legion had now joined the advance. It had hesitated at first, and then, when things turned out well, became uneasy because of its failure to cooperate. It was accompanied by a recent levy of 6,000 Dalmatian recruits. This whole force was led by the consular governor, Pompeius Silvanus, although real power lay with Annius Bassus, the legionary commander. Silvanus, too lazy for war, frittered away the time for action in talk, but Bassus knew how to manage him by a show of deference, and whenever there was work to be done he was always on the spot and ready to act with quiet efficiency. These units were reinforced by the pick of the naval personnel at Ravenna, who were eagerly demanding service in the legions.56 Dalmatians made up the numbers in the fleet.
The army and its leaders halted at Fanum Fortunae, hesitating about their strategy, for they had heard that the praetorian cohorts had moved out from Rome, and concluded that the passes of the Apennines were by this time held by garrisons. What also alarmed the leaders was the lack of supplies in a region devastated by war, and the mutinous demands of the troops for a bounty called ‘nail-money’.57 The commanders had not made provision either for pay or for food. They were being hindered by the impetuous greed of their soldiers who stole what they could have had as a gift. 51. In some very widely read historians58 I find endorsement of the following story. The victors displayed such disregard for right and wrong that a common cavalry soldier claimed to have killed his brother in the recent battle and demanded a reward from his leaders.59 Common morality did not allow them to reward the murder, but the very nature of civil war prevented them from punishing it. So they decided to put the man off by claiming that the reward he deserved was too great to be paid on the spot. And there the story ends. However, an equally ghastly crime had occurred in a previous civil war, for in the battle against Cinna on the Janiculum,60 a soldier of Pompeius Strabo killed his brother, and then, when he realized what he had done, committed suicide. So Sisenna relates.61 So earlier generations were more sharply attuned than we are both to the glory created by good deeds and to the remorse caused by wicked actions. At any rate, it will be appropriate for me to cite these and similar anecdotes from ancient history when the context calls for examples of good conduct or consolation for evil.
52. Antonius and the other Flavian leaders decided that the cavalry should be sent forward to conduct a general reconnaissance of Umbria to see if they could approach the summit of the Apennines by a less forbidding route. A summons was also to be sent to the main body of the legions and whatever other troops were at Verona, and the Po and the Adriatic were to take a full complement of supply ships.
There were some generals who tried to drag their feet, feeling that Antonius was now too powerful, and that it would be safer to pin their hopes on Mucianus. For Mucianus, concerned that victory had come so quickly, was convinced that he would be excluded from the campaign and its distinctions unless he were personally present at the entry into Rome. So he wrote noncommittal dispatches to Primus and Varus, sometimes pointing up the need to exploit any opening, sometimes stressing the practical advantages of delay. His language was carefully chosen so that according to the outcome he could either distance himself from failure or take credit for success. Mucianus gave more candid advice to his other trusted supporters, including Plotius Grypus, who had recently been made a senator by Vespasian and put in charge of a legion, than to his other reliable adherents. All of these men wrote back in critical terms about the excessive haste of Primus and Varus, which was just what Mucianus wanted. By forwarding these accounts to Vespasian, Mucianus soon made sure that Antonius’ intentions and achievements were not valued as highly as he had hoped.
53. Antonius resented this and blamed Mucianus, whose accusations, he said, had devalued his own desperate endeavours. He did not hold back in general conversation either, since he was an outspoken man who was not accustomed to obey orders. The letter he wrote to Vespasian was too boastful for an imperial addressee and contained veiled attacks on Mucianus. He pointed out that it was he, Antonius, who had got the legions of Pannonia to fight, who had spurred the Moesian commanders to action, and by steady persistence broke through the Alps, seized Italy, and cut off the enemy reinforcements coming from Germany and Raetia. He had routed Vitellius’ disunited and scattered legions, first by a whirlwind cavalry charge, and then by a day and a night of hard infantry fighting. This was no mean achievement, and it was down to him. The sack of Cremona must be chalked up to the hazards of war. Previous civil conflicts had cost the country more dearly in that not one city but several had been destroyed. He served his emperor not by sending messages and writing dispatches, but by action and fighting, and he had not compromised the glory of those who, in the meantime, had established order in Dacia. The concern of these generals had been to impose peace in Moesia, his own had been to rescue and preserve Italy. By his own encouragement, the provinces of Gaul and Spain, one of the most powerful regions in the world, had gone over to Vespasian. However, all this hard work would have been for nothing, if the rewards for facing danger were to go only to those who had not faced it.
None of this escaped the notice of Mucianus, as a result of which there was a serious rift between the two. Antonius expressed his grievances more directly, whereas Mucianus nurtured the dispute with a cunning that was much more relentless.
54. However, after the total collapse at Cremona, Vitellius foolishly tried to hush up news of defeat, which only postponed the remedy for the disease rather than the disease itself. The fact is that if he had admitted that he was in trouble and sought advice, there were still hopeful possibilities and resources available. Yet by his diametrically opposite pretence that all was well, he just lied and made the problem more acute. Before the emperor there was a remarkable wall of silence about the war, while in Rome all rumours were quashed, which only made them multiply. People who would have told the truth, if this had been permitted, immediately spread more outrageous stories to spite the censorship. The Flavian generals also did their bit to intensify the gossip by taking captured Vitellian scouts on conducted tours of the victorious army to give them an insight into its strength, and then sending them back to Rome. Vitellius interrogated all these men in secret and then had them killed.
With remarkable persistence a centurion called Julius Agrestis had many fruitless conversations with Vitellius in which he tried to spur the emperor to act heroically. Finally, Agrestis prevailed upon him so that he was sent in person to reconnoitre the enemy strength and see what had happened at Cremona. The centurion made no attempt to hide his mission from Antonius, but revealed the emperor’s instructions and his own purpose, and asked permission to have a look at everything. Men were appointed to show him the site of the battle, the ruins of Cremona and the legions who had capitulated. Agrestis then returned to Vitellius, but when the emperor refused to admit that his report was accurate and actually alleged that he had been bribed, the centurion replied: ‘Well, since you need conclusive proof and you have no further use for me whether living or dead, I will give you some evidence you can trust.’ So he left the emperor and backed up his words by committing suicide.62 Some sources say that he was killed by order of Vitellius, but they are unanimous about his fidelity and persistence.
55. Vitellius was like a man shaken from sleep. He ordered Julius Priscus and Alfenus Varus to hold the Apennines with fourteen praetorian cohorts and all the available cavalry units. The legion recruited from the marines followed hot on their heels. This force of so many thousands, including specially chosen men and horses, was quite strong enough to launch an offensive, if only the general had been a different man. The remaining cohorts were allocated to the emperor’s brother Lucius to protect Rome. Vitellius himself abandoned none of his usual luxurious indulgences, but he acted hastily because he lacked confidence. He held hurried elections, appointing consuls in advance for a number of years. He lavished treaty status on the provincials and Latin rights on foreigners.63 Some were excused payment of tribute, others were assisted by various exemptions. In short, with total disregard for the future, he hacked the empire to pieces. However, the common people gaped open-mouthed at such lavish bounty. Fools purchased his favours with money, but concessions which could neither be offered nor accepted without ruining the country were regarded as worthless by wise men. Finally, he yielded to the demands of the army, which was now at Mevania, and after assembling a great retinue of senators, many of whom wanted to curry favour, while still more were induced by fear, he travelled with them to the camp, where his indecision put him at the mercy of unreliable advisers.
56. As he was addressing the troops, an event which was spoken of as a prodigy took place: a flock of ill-omened birds flew overhead in such numbers that they blocked out the daylight in a black cloud.64 There was an additional dreadful omen when an ox which escaped from the altar and scattered the implements of sacrifice was cut down some distance away in a manner contrary to the proper ritual for killing victims. Yet the chief portent was Vitellius himself, who was clueless about military service and had no plan for the future. He was perpetually asking others about the proper march-order, the arrangement for reconnaissance and how far a military decision should be pushed forward or postponed. Whenever a dispatch arrived, he showed panic in his very looks and movements; and then he turned to drink. Finally, bored with camp life, and hearing about the defection of the fleet at Misenum, he returned to Rome, frightened by each new blow he suffered but blind to the supreme danger. Although it was open to him to cross the Apennines with his army intact and attack an enemy exhausted by the winter and lack of supplies, he scattered his resources and consigned to slaughter and captivity a devoted army that was ready to face any odds. His most experienced centurions disagreed with him, and would have told the truth if consulted, but Vitellius’ closest friends kept them at bay. He himself was predisposed to listen to sound advice in a sour mood and to lend a ready ear only to what was agreeable – and fatal.
57. In civil wars, the daring escapades even of single individuals can have great influence. Claudius Faventinus, a centurion who had been ignominiously dismissed by Galba, induced the fleet at Misenum to rebel after he had dangled before the sailors a forged letter from Vespasian offering rewards for treachery. The fleet was commanded by Claudius Apollinaris, an officer who was neither robustly loyal nor enterprising as a rebel. An ex-praetor, too, Apinius Tiro, happened to be at Minturnae at the time, and put himself at the head of the rebels. Incited by these two, the towns and the colonies in the area added their local rivalries to the confusion of civil war – Puteoli was particularly attached to Vespasian, while Capua was faithful to Vitellius.65 To soothe the sailors’ ruffled feelings, Vitellius now chose Claudius Julianus, who had recently commanded the fleet at Misenum without much insistence on discipline, and for this purpose gave him one urban cohort and some gladiators already under his command. When the two forces encamped within striking distance of each other, Julianus lost little time in going over to Vespasian. The rebels then occupied Tarracina, which was protected more efficiently by its walls and position than by the temper of its new garrison.
58. On hearing of this, Vitellius left part of his forces at Narnia with the praetorian prefects, and sent off his brother Lucius with six cohorts and 500 cavalry to confront the offensive which was being mounted throughout Campania. The emperor himself was depressed, but found some encouragement in the enthusiasm of his troops and the clamour of the people calling for war. For he gave the specious names of ‘army’ and ‘legions’ to a cowardly mob unlikely to translate its boasts into action. On the advice of his freedmen – for at Vitellius’ court loyalty stood in inverse proportion to rank – he ordered the people to be mustered by tribes, and had volunteers sworn in. Since a huge crowd was pouring in, he allocated responsibility for the levy to the consuls. He imposed upon the senators specific contributions of slaves and money. The equestrian order offered its services and wealth, and freedmen, too, actually asked to shoulder the same burden. Thus a fake devotion created by fear had turned into real attachment. Most people took pity not so much on Vitellius as on the disastrous position of the principate. Besides, Vitellius did his best to stir sympathy by looks, words and tears, for he was lavish with his promises and displayed the emotional extravagances of panic. Indeed, he even consented to be addressed as ‘Caesar’, a title which he had previously refused.66 Now the magic of the name appealed to his superstition, and in moments of fear the advice of wise men and the gossip of the mob are listened to with equal alacrity. However, mere emotional impulses, however strong originally, always grow weaker over time. So senators and knights gradually melted away, at first reluctantly and in his absence, later without respect or distinction. In the end, Vitellius grew ashamed of his fruitless efforts and ceased to demand what no one offered.
59. Although Italy had been frightened by the occupation of Mevania and by the impression that the war was starting all over again, the panic-stricken departure of Vitellius added a decisive impetus to the popularity of the Flavian cause. The Samnites, Paeligni and Marsi were in an excited state, jealous that Campania had pre-empted them, and they were naturally eager to emphasize their new-found loyalty by performing every kind of military service. However, thanks to the severe winter, the army had faced a difficult crossing of the Apennines, and the difficulty it experienced in forcing a way through the snow, even when unmolested, made it clear how much danger it would have had to face if Vitellius had not happened to turn back. So good fortune helped the Flavian leaders no less often than strategy.67 In the mountains they met Petilius Cerialis, who had eluded the Vitellian guards by disguising himself as a peasant and exploiting his personal knowledge of the area.68 Cerialis was closely related to Vespasian, and a distinguished soldier in his own right, so he was taken up as one of the generals. According to many accounts, Flavius Sabinus and Domitian had a chance to escape too, and messengers from Antonius repeatedly got through bringing details about a rendezvous and an escort. Sabinus excused himself on the grounds that his health was not up to such an exhausting and daring escapade. Domitian had the spirit to act, but Vitellius had put him in custody and, although his guards promised to join him in the escape, he feared that this might be a trap. As it was, Vitellius himself avoided any ill-treatment of Domitian out of consideration for the safety of his own relatives.
60. When the Flavian generals reached Carsulae, they took a few days’ rest, and waited until the main body of the legions caught up. The site of the camp appealed to them, too, for it commanded a wide and distant prospect, and since there were some very prosperous towns behind them, there was a good flow of supplies. Furthermore, there was a chance of negotiations with the Vitellians who were only ten miles away and might hopefully be persuaded to surrender. This hardly pleased the common soldiers, who preferred to win a victory rather than negotiate a peace. They were not prepared to wait even for their own legions, in case they shared the prizes rather than the perils. Antonius summoned his men to a parade and pointed out that Vitellius still had considerable forces, which might well waver if they were given time to reflect, but they could become aggressive, if hope were denied them. The opening moves of a civil war, he claimed, must be left to chance, but final victory came with planning and calculation. The fleet at Misenum and the finest part of the coast of Campania had already abandoned Vitellius, who had nothing left of a worldwide empire but the strip of territory between Tarracina and Narnia. They had won sufficient glory by the battle of Cremona, but too much dishonour by Cremona’s destruction. Their dearest wish should be to save Rome, not to capture it. He urged that greater rewards and supreme glory would be theirs if they sought the preservation of the senate and people of Rome without bloodshed. These and similar arguments succeeded in mollifying their feelings.
61. Not long afterwards, the legions arrived. Then, as the alarming news of their increased strength spread, the Vitellian cohorts began to waver. No one was encouraging them to fight, but many urged them to go over to the Flavians and competed with one another in surrendering their companies and squadrons to the victor as a free gift that would earn them his gratitude in the future. Thanks to them, it was learnt that Interamna, in the plains nearby, was garrisoned by a force of 400 cavalry. Varus was instantly sent off with a lightly armed force and killed the few who resisted, but most of them threw down their arms and asked for a pardon. A few fled back to the Vitellian camp, spreading demoralization everywhere and telling exaggerated tales of the fighting spirit and numbers of the enemy in order to diminish the scandal of losing the fort. In any case, on the Vitellian side there was no punishment for unsoldierly conduct, and the rewards earned by defection killed loyalty so that all that remained was a competition in perfidy. There were constant desertions on the part of tribunes and centurions. The common soldiers, on the other hand, stubbornly adhered to Vitellius until Priscus and Alfenus, by leaving the camp and going back to him, freed everyone from the need to be ashamed of giving up.
62. It was during this period that Fabius Valens was put to death at Urvinum, where he had been imprisoned.69 His head was displayed to the Vitellian cohorts to deter them from indulging in any further hopes, for they imagined that Valens had got through to the German provinces and was mobilizing existing and newly recruited armies there. At this gory sight, they were thrown into despair, whereas the Flavian army was vastly buoyed up and greeted the death of Valens as marking the end of the war.
Valens had been born at Anagnia and came from an equestrian family. Undisciplined in character but not without talent, he had tried to pass himself off as a witty man by behaving frivolously. During Nero’s principate, he had appeared in a farce at the emperor’s Youth Games, ostensibly under duress, but then voluntarily. He acted with some skill, but showed little sense of decorum. As the commander of a legion, he both supported Verginius and blackened his name. He killed Fonteius Capito after corrupting him – or perhaps it was because his allurements had failed. Although he betrayed Galba, he was loyal to Vitellius and his fidelity shone out positively in contrast with other men’s treachery.70
63. Their hopes everywhere were shattered so the Vitellian troops decided to go over to the enemy. Even this act was not to be performed without a certain dignity. They marched down to the plains beneath Narnia with banners flying and standards borne aloft. The Flavian army, ready and armed as if for battle, had formed up in closed ranks on either side of the main road. The Vitellians marched forward until they were enveloped by them, and Antonius Primus then addressed them in a conciliatory tone. Some were ordered to stay at Narnia, others at Interamna. One or two of the victorious legions were also left behind with them, not so many as to be oppressive if the ex-enemy troops behaved, but strong enough to quell any insubordination.
During this period, Primus and Varus sent Vitellius a stream of messages offering him his life, a pension and retirement in Campania if he would lay down his arms and entrust himself and his children to Vespasian’s mercy. Mucianus wrote letters to him along the same lines. On the whole, Vitellius took the offer seriously, and talked about the appropriate number of slaves and the best seaside resort to choose. Indeed, his whole attitude was so lethargic that, if his courtiers had not remembered that he was an emperor, he would have forgotten it himself.
64. The leading men of the state, however, were engaged in secret conversations with the city prefect, Flavius Sabinus,71 urging him to take his share of the glorious victory. They pointed out that he had his own military force in the urban cohorts, and could rely upon the cohorts of the city watch, their own slaves, the luck of the Flavians and the fact that nothing succeeds like success. He should not allow himself to be elbowed out of the limelight by Antonius and Varus. Vitellius’ cohorts were few in number and alarmed by gloomy news from every quarter. The populace was easily swayed, and, given a leader, would be quick to transfer its flattery to Vespasian. As for Vitellius, he had not even been able to cope with success, and was now inevitably crippled by disaster. Credit for bringing the war to an end would go to the one who was the first to gain control of Rome. It was fitting for Sabinus to stake a claim to the imperial power on behalf of his brother, and for Vespasian to regard all others in second place to Sabinus.
65. Flavius Sabinus responded to these remarks with no eagerness, for age had enfeebled him, but some people furtively prompted suspicions that it was envy and jealousy that made him delay his brother’s rise. It is true that, when both men were private citizens, the elder brother Sabinus overshadowed Vespasian in influence and wealth. People also believed that when Vespasian’s credit was impaired, Sabinus had been stingy in providing assistance and had demanded a mortgage on his brother’s house and land in return; hence, although they were outwardly friendly, it was feared that there were hostilities between the pair in private. A more charitable interpretation was that this gentle man hated bloodshed and killing, and that this was why he took part in repeated interviews with Vitellius to discuss peace and an armistice upon agreed terms. They often met in private, and finally made a solemn settlement, it was said, in the Temple of Apollo. Only two men, Cluvius Rufus and Silius Italicus,72 witnessed the actual terms of the agreement and the words exchanged between them, but observers at a distance marked their looks – Vitellius downcast and contemptible, Sabinus with an expression suggesting sympathy rather than a desire to humiliate.
66. If Vitellius had found it as easy to convert his followers as to give way himself, the army of Vespasian would have entered the capital without bloodshed. As it was, the greater their loyalty to Vitellius, the more passionately they opposed the notion of peace terms, pointing out the danger and discredit of a pact whose faithful observance depended on the conqueror’s whim. However conceited Vespasian was, they said, he would not tolerate Vitellius as a subject, and even the beaten side would not accept such a situation. The victor’s mercy only meant danger. To be sure, Vitellius himself was no longer young, and had had his fill of success and failure, but what name and status would his son Germanicus inherit? For the moment, there was an offer of money, household slaves and the delightful bays of Campania. However, when Vespasian had consolidated his power, neither he nor his court, nor indeed his armies, would feel safe unless the rival emperor were destroyed. After being taken prisoner and kept for a few days, Fabius Valens had proved too great a burden for them. It was clear therefore that Primus, Fuscus and that typical Flavian, Mucianus, would have no alternative but to kill Vitellius. Caesar had not spared Pompey, nor had Augustus given Antony his life.73 What hope was there then that Vespasian would be above such things when he had been the dependant of a Vitellius when that Vitellius was a colleague of Claudius?74 Indeed, even if he had no thought for his father’s position as censor and his three consulships, or for the many other high offices filled by his distinguished family, despair at least should arm him for a desperate bid. The troops stood firm, the people were still enthusiastic. In any case, nothing more dreadful could happen than the fate to which they were hurrying of their own accord. Defeated men must die, men who surrendered must die. The only important thing was whether they were to breathe their last amid mockery and insult, or on the field of honour.
67. Vitellius would not listen to those advising a brave response. He was overwhelmed by pity for his family and concerned that if he fought to the bitter end, he would make the victor less inclined to offer mercy to his widow and children.75 He also had an elderly mother in poor health, but happily she died a few days before the ruin of her family. The only thing she got from her son’s principate was sorrow and a good reputation.
On 18 December, after hearing news that the legion and cohorts at Narnia had deserted him and surrendered to the enemy, Vitellius, dressed in mourning garb, left the palace, surrounded by his sorrowful household. His little son was being carried in a small litter, as if to a funeral procession. The people’s utterances were flattering and untimely; the soldiers remained threateningly silent. 68. Nobody was so mindless of human affairs as to be unmoved by that spectacle. A Roman emperor, shortly beforehand master of the human race, after leaving the seat of his authority, was now passing through the city and through the people, abandoning his power. They had neither seen nor heard about anything like it. Suddenly unleashed violence had done for the dictator Caesar, and a secret plot had removed Gaius, while night and the obscure countryside had hidden Nero’s flight. Piso and Galba had practically fallen on the field of battle. Yet Vitellius, before an assembly of his own people and in front of his own soldiers, with even women looking on, made a few remarks suitable to his current sorrowful position: he said that he was yielding for the sake of peace and the state, but he begged them only to keep his memory in their hearts and take pity on his brother, his wife and his innocent young children. At the same time he held out his son and made his appeals, now to individuals, now to everyone, to look after him. Finally, as tears stopped him speaking, he turned to the consul (Caecilius Simplex was the man), who was standing close by, and unstrapped his dagger from his side and began to hand it over, the object which symbolized his power over the life and death of his subjects. While the consul was refusing it and the people standing by in the assembly were loudly contradicting him, Vitellius departed, intending to deposit the imperial regalia in the Temple of Concord and to head for his brother’s house.76 Hereupon there was a louder uproar, as they refused to let him enter a private house and called him to the palace. Every other way was blocked, and the only route available was the road leading to the Sacred Way.77 Not knowing what else to do, Vitellius returned to the palace.
69. A rumour that Vitellius intended to abdicate had already leaked out, and Flavius Sabinus had written to the tribunes of the cohorts ordering them to confine their men to barracks. Assuming, therefore, that there had been a complete transfer of power to Vespasian, the leading senators, a number of knights, all the urban troops and the city guardsmen came in crowds to the house of Flavius Sabinus.78 While they were there, news came of the people’s enthusiasm for Vitellius and the threatening attitude of the cohorts from Germany. By this time Sabinus had gone too far to turn back, and although he was hesitant, they urged him to fight: each man was afraid for himself in case the Vitellians might hunt them down while they were scattered and therefore weaker. As tends to happen in situations of this sort, everybody offered advice, but only a few were prepared to face up to the danger.
Near the Pool of Fundanus,79 as the armed escort of Sabinus came down the hill, the most active of Vitellius’ supporters confronted it. The fracas was unexpected, but the Vitellians gained the upper hand in the skirmish there. In the chaos, Sabinus took the safest course currently open to him: he occupied the Capitoline Hill with a mixed force of soldiers and a few senators and knights. (It is not easy to establish their names, because after Vespasian’s victory many people pretended to have served his cause in this way.) There were even some women among the besieged, most notably Verulana Gratilla, who followed the call to action and not the claims of her children and relatives.80
The Vitellian soldiers kept only a desultory watch after encircling the besieged, and that is why, late at night, Sabinus was able to get his children and his nephew Domitian to join him on the Capitol. He also managed to send a messenger through a carelessly guarded sector in the enemy lines to tell the Flavian generals that they were under siege and that the situation would get desperate unless help were forthcoming. The night was so quiet that Sabinus could have got away without any harm, for Vitellius’ men, although full of dash in a tight corner, were pretty slack when it came to hard work and guard duty, and a sudden wintry rainstorm made seeing and hearing difficult.
70. At first light, before either side could begin hostilities, Sabinus sent one of the senior centurions, Cornelius Martialis, to Vitellius with instructions to complain that the agreement had been broken. The abdication, he protested, had apparently been no more than a pretence and an empty show, designed to deceive all those high-ranking men. For why, otherwise, after leaving the rostra, had Vitellius sought his brother’s house, which overlooked the Forum and stimulated people’s eyes, rather than the Aventine and his wife’s home?81 This would have been suitable for a private citizen and one trying to avoid all the show of imperial authority. Far from doing this, Vitellius had returned to the very stronghold of empire, the palace. From there an armed column had been sent out, a crowded area of the city had been strewn with the bodies of innocent victims, and not even the Capitol was to be spared. After all, he, Sabinus, was merely a civilian, an ordinary senator. While the issue between Vespasian and Vitellius was being settled by legionary battles, the capture of cities and the surrender of cohorts, and even when the Spanish and German provinces and Britain were already in revolt, he, Vespasian’s brother, had remained loyal until Vitellius took the initiative and invited him to negotiate. Agreeing peace terms was crucial for the defeated, but was no more than an adornment for the winners. If Vitellius regretted the pact, he had no business to launch an armed attack on Sabinus, whom he had perfidiously tricked, or on the son of Vespasian, who was little more than a child. What was to be gained by murdering one old man and one youth? Vitellius should go and face the legions and fight it out there. The result of such a battle would determine everything else.
Alarmed by these reproaches, Vitellius made a short speech in an effort to clear his name, throwing the blame on the troops: his own moderate character, he said, could not deal with their excessive passion. He also warned Martialis to slip away by a secret section of the palace to avoid being murdered by the soldiers as the intermediary of a pact that they detested. Vitellius himself was in no position either to command or to forbid. He was emperor no longer, only the cause of the fighting.
71. Martialis had scarcely returned to the Capitol when the raging soldiers arrived. They had no general, each man wrote his own script. Passing in a swift column the Forum and the temples overlooking the Forum, they charged up the hill opposite until they reached the lowest gates of the Capitoline citadel. There was a series of colonnades built long ago at the side of the slope on the right as you go up. Coming out onto the roof of these, the besieged showered the Vitellians with rocks and roof-tiles. These attackers were armed only with swords, and it seemed tedious to summon catapults and missiles. So they hurled torches into a projecting colonnade and followed the path of the fire. They would have broken through the burnt gates of the Capitol, had not Sabinus torn down statues everywhere (the adornment of our ancestors) and built a sort of barrier on the very threshold. They then attacked the Capitol by two different routes, one near the Grove of Refuge and the other by the hundred steps which lead up to the Tarpeian Rock.82 Both assaults came as a surprise, but the closer and more vigorous was the one by the Refuge. The Vitellians could not be stopped as they climbed up by the adjoining buildings, which had been raised high (typical in prolonged peace) and were at the same level as the floor of the Capitol. It is uncertain whether the besiegers set fire to the houses, or whether it was the besieged (although this was the more common version) who were trying to dislodge their enemies as they struggled and advanced.83 From there the fire spread to the colonnades adjoining the temple.84 Soon the gables supporting the roof, made from old wood, caught up and nourished the flames. So the Capitol, with its doors closed, undefended and unplundered, was burnt down.
72. This was the most lamentable and appalling disaster to befall the state of the Roman people since the foundation of the city. Although no foreign enemy threatened, although the gods favoured us as far as our failings permitted, the sanctuary of Jupiter Best and Greatest, solemnly founded by our fathers as a symbol of our imperial destiny – a temple which neither Porsenna on the surrender of the city nor the Gauls on its capture had been able to desecrate85 – was now, thanks to the madness of our leaders, suffering utter destruction. It had already been burnt down in a previous civil war, but by an individual and mysterious act of arson.86 Now, in broad daylight, it had been besieged, in broad daylight set on fire. For what military purposes had this happened? What prize would come from this enormous disaster?
The temple stood firm so long as we fought to defend our country. Tarquinius Priscus had vowed to build it during the Sabine war, and laid its foundations on a scale prompted rather by a hope of coming greatness than by the then modest resources of Rome. Later, Servius Tullius advanced the building with the support of our allies, as did Tarquinius Superbus with spoils taken from the enemy at the capture of Suessa Pometia.87 However, the distinction of completing the structure was reserved for the free republic. After the kings were expelled, Horatius Pulvillus dedicated the temple in his second consulship.88 Such was its magnificence that the enormous increase in Rome’s wealth in later days served rather to adorn than to enlarge it. In the consulship of Lucius Scipio and Gaius Norbanus, 425 years later, it was burnt down and rebuilt on the same foundations.89 The victorious Sulla undertook the responsibility, but he did not live to perform the dedication. This was the only case where his proverbial good luck deserted him. Despite all the great works of the Caesars, the inscription recording the name of Lutatius Catulus survived right up until the principate of Vitellius.90 Such, then, was the temple which was now being reduced to ashes.
73. However, the fire caused more terror among the besieged than the besiegers. The fact was that in this crisis the Vitellian soldiers showed both cunning and determination, whereas on the opposing side were panic-stricken troops and a leader who was slow to act and seemed mentally paralysed and incapable of speaking or listening. He was neither guided by other people’s advice, nor came up with his own plans. Turning now this way, now that in answer to each enemy shout, he countermanded what he had ordered, and ordered what he had countermanded. Soon the typical signs of collapse appeared: everybody gave instructions and no one carried them out. Finally, throwing down their arms, they started looking around them for an escape route and methods of concealment. The Vitellians forced their way in, creating a confused turmoil of blood, iron and flames. A few of the professional soldiers – the most notable being Cornelius Martialis, Aemilius Pacensis, Casperius Niger and Didius Scaeva – ventured to resist, and were struck down. Flavius Sabinus was unarmed and made no attempt to run. He was surrounded, together with the consul Quintius Atticus, who had attracted notice because of his empty distinction and his own pretentiousness in showering edicts upon the people, which glorified Vespasian and insulted Vitellius. The rest got away by various hazardous means, some dressed as slaves, others hidden by loyal dependants and concealed amid the baggage. A few overheard the Vitellian watchword and by actually challenging the enemy or giving the correct answer found concealment in daring.
74. As soon as the enemy broke in, Domitian had hidden himself in the house of the caretaker of the temple. Then, prompted by an ingenious freedman, he put on a linen mantle and escaped recognition by mingling with a crowd of worshippers and secreting himself with one of his father’s dependants, Cornelius Primus, who lived near the Velabrum.91 This is why, during Vespasian’s reign, he demolished the caretaker’s dwelling and put up a small chapel to Jupiter the Preserver and a marble altar with carvings of his own adventures. Later, on becoming emperor in his turn, he built a large temple dedicated to Jupiter the Guardian, with an effigy of himself under the protecting arm of the god.92
Sabinus and Atticus were heavily chained and taken to Vitellius, who received them with words and looks that showed little hostility, although others clamoured noisily for the right to execute them and demanded a reward for services rendered. The cries, which were first raised among the bystanders, were taken up by the dregs of the city mob, who howled for Sabinus’ execution with a combination of threats and flattery. Vitellius was standing at the top of the palace steps preparing to appeal to their better feelings, but they forced him to give up the attempt. Then Sabinus was stabbed and hacked to death, and after cutting off his head they dragged his decapitated body to the Gemonian Steps.93
75. Such was the end of a man of undeniable importance. He had served his country for thirty-five years, winning distinction in the civilian and military spheres. You could not question his honesty and fair-mindedness, but he did talk too much. This is the one charge that wagging tongues could level against him during the seven years in which he governed Moesia and his twelve-year tenure as prefect of the city.94 At the end of his life, some regarded him as unenterprising, but many people believed that he was a moderate man who sought to prevent the bloodshed of his fellow-citizens. What everyone would agree is that before Vespasian’s principate, Sabinus was the most distinguished member of his household. We have heard that his murder filled Mucianus with delight. Many observers maintained that it served the interests of peace by putting an end to the rivalry between the two men, of whom one might well have reflected that he was the emperor’s brother, and the other that he was his colleague.
Vitellius, however, took a stand against the people’s demand for the execution of the consul. Atticus had succeeded in mollifying the emperor, who felt that he owed him something in return, because when asked who had set fire to the Capitol, Atticus had taken responsibility. By this admission (unless it was a lie devised to suit the occasion) he had, so it seemed, shouldered the resentment and guilt himself, thus exonerating Vitellius and his followers.95
76. Over this same period, Lucius Vitellius had encamped at Feronia96 and was threatening to destroy Tarracina after pinning down there the gladiators and sailors, who did not dare to leave the shelter of the walls or expose themselves to danger in the open. As I have already mentioned,97 the gladiators were commanded by Julianus and the seamen by Apollinaris, but the decadence and the idleness of the two men made them resemble gladiators more than generals. They did not keep watch, nor reinforce the weak places along the walls. Night and day, they lolled about and made the pleasant beaches ring with sounds of revelry. The soldiers were scattered everywhere on errands of pleasure, and they spoke about the war only at their dinner-parties. A few days earlier, Apinius Tiro had gone off and by his merciless exaction of gifts and money throughout the towns of the area he had earned more resentment than support.
77. Meanwhile, a slave belonging to Vergilius Capito98 deserted to Lucius Vitellius and promised that, if he were given men, he would hand over the undefended citadel of Tarracina. Late at night he led some lightly armed cohorts along the top of the hills and positioned them overlooking the enemy. From this point they swooped down to inflict massacre more than to fight a battle. They cut down their opponents while they were unarmed or scrabbling for their weapons. Some had just been roused from sleep and were dazed by the darkness, panic, trumpet-calls and shouts of the enemy. A few of the gladiators put up a fight and inflicted some losses before they were killed, but the rest made a rush for the ships, where the whole place was caught up in the same panic – civilians were mixed up with troops and the Vitellians were killing them all without distinction. Six galleys got away at the first alarm, with Apollinaris the admiral of the fleet on board. The remaining ships were captured on the shore or were overloaded with too many fugitives and sank. Julianus was taken before Lucius Vitellius, and suffered a degrading flogging before having his throat cut under the victor’s eyes.99 Some criticized Lucius’ wife, Triaria, for putting on a soldier’s sword and behaving with arrogance and cruelty amid the misery and suffering of captured Tarracina.100 Lucius himself sent a laurelled dispatch to his brother announcing his victory and asking whether he wanted him to return immediately or to press on with subjugating Campania. This delay was not only salutary for Vespasian’s followers, but also for the whole state. For if the Vitellian troops – fresh from their victory and, on top of their natural determination, now made feisty by success – had hurried to Rome immediately after the battle, there would have been a desperate struggle which would certainly have culminated in the destruction of the capital. For Lucius Vitellius, despite his shady reputation, did get things done, and as good men derive their power from their virtues, the basis of his strength was his vices, as is the case with the most flawed individuals.
78. While this is what was happening on Vitellius’ side, Vespasian’s army, which had left Narnia, was celebrating the festival of the Saturnalia in idleness at Ocriculum.101 The reason for this crass delay was so that they could wait for Mucianus. Some have suspected Antonius of treacherously wasting time after receiving a secret communication from Vitellius, and there was in fact a letter offering him a consulship, Vitellius’ marriageable daughter and a rich dowry as a reward for changing sides. Others believe that this account was invented to please Mucianus. Certain writers have said that it was the strategy of all the Flavian generals to threaten Rome with war rather than to attack the city, since the most powerful cohorts had deserted from Vitellius, and in fact now that he was deprived of all his forces, it seemed inevitable that Vitellius would abdicate. However, according to this view, Sabinus spoiled everything first by his haste, then by his cowardice, after rashly resorting to arms and then proving unable to defend the Capitoline Hill against only three cohorts, although it should have been impregnable even to large armies. It is difficult to blame any one leader when they were all responsible. For Mucianus persistently delayed the victors by his ambiguously worded letters, while Antonius by ill-timed obedience earned himself condemnation just when he was trying to avert criticism. As for the other generals, they believed that the war was over, which made its final stages all the more notorious. Petilius Cerialis had been sent ahead with 1,000 cavalry to march cross-country through Sabine territory and enter the city by the Salarian Way, but even he had failed to make sufficient haste, and, at last, the news that the Capitol was under siege shocked all the Flavian commanders alike into action.
79. The night was almost over before Antonius marched down the Flaminian Way and reached the Saxa Ruba,102 but his help came too late. There he heard that Sabinus had been killed, the Capitol had been burnt down, the city was in a panic, and that everything looked bleak. He also began to get news that the common people and slaves were taking up arms for Vitellius. Furthermore, Petilius Cerialis’ cavalry engagement had ended in defeat. For as he hurled himself recklessly against an enemy he believed beaten, a mixed Vitellian force of infantry and cavalry had caught him off his guard. The battle took place near the city amidst buildings, gardens and winding lanes familiar to the Vitellians but formidable to the enemy, who were strangers to the area. Besides, the Flavian cavalry were not cooperating as a group, since they had been joined by some troops who had just surrendered at Narnia and were watching to see which side was the lucky one. The commander of a cavalry regiment, Julius Flavianus, was captured. The rest were driven off in a degrading rout, although the victors did not keep up the pursuit beyond Fidenae.
80. This success made the people more enthusiastic than ever. The city mob armed. Only a few had proper military shields, so most of them grabbed whatever weapons they could find and demanded the signal for battle. Vitellius thanked them and gave orders for them to go forth and defend the city. Then after the senate had been summoned, a delegation was chosen to meet the Flavian armies and urge a peace settlement, ostensibly in the interests of the country.
The envoys had a mixed reception. Those who had approached Petilius Cerialis faced an extremely dangerous situation, for the troops flatly refused their terms. The praetor Arulenus Rusticus was wounded.103 What made this particularly scandalous was his high personal reputation, quite apart from the violation of his status as an ambassador and praetor. His colleagues were roughly handled, and his senior lictor was killed when he dared to clear a way through the crowd. Indeed, if the escort provided by the general had not come to their defence, the diplomatic immunity enjoyed by ambassadors even among foreign nations would have been violated by murder outside the very walls of Rome, thanks to the madness of civil war. The ambassadors sent to Antonius were received more calmly, not because the troops were more restrained but because their general had more hold over them. 81. Among these envoys was Musonius Rufus, a knight and a keen student of philosophy and the principles of stoicism.104 Mixing with the troops in their companies, he now proceeded to lecture armed men about the benefits of peace and the dangers of war. Many of them laughed in his face, more still found him boring, and a few were even ready to knock him over and trample on him, but luckily the warnings of the most obedient men and the threats of the rest made him abandon his untimely moralizing. The Flavians also received a deputation of Vestal Virgins carrying a letter from Vitellius addressed to Antonius. In this, he asked for a delay of one day before the final conflict, and urged that if they would only interpose this deferral, it would be easier for them to agree a general settlement. The Vestals were sent away with due courtesy, and Vitellius was informed in the reply that with the murder of Sabinus and the burning of the Capitol all the deals normal in war were at an end.
82. However, Antonius did call the legions to a meeting and try to calm them, urging them to camp for the night by the Milvian Bridge and enter Rome on the following day.105 His reason for waiting was his fear that the troops, once stirred up after a battle, would have no regard for the people and senators or even for the temples and shrines of the gods. However, the men suspected any postponement as being detrimental to their victory. Besides, the glint of banners displayed along the hills gave the impression of a hostile professional army, although in fact only untrained civilians were massed behind them.
The Flavians advanced in three columns. One went down the Flaminian Way where the soldiers had been assembled, a second advanced along the bank of the Tiber and a third approached the Colline Gate by the Salarian Way. The civilians were routed by a cavalry charge, but the Vitellian soldiers moved up to face the attack, also in three battle groups. There were many clashes outside the city with varying results, but the Flavians more often came off better since they were helped by better leadership. However, some of the attackers turned off along narrow and slippery tracks towards the eastern areas of the city and the Sallustian Park, where they were the only ones to meet with stiff resistance. The Vitellians, standing on the garden walls and using stones and javelins, withstood the attackers below them until the evening. Finally, the cavalry forced its way through the Colline Gate and enveloped the defenders. There was fierce fighting in the Campus Martius, too. Here good luck and numerous past victories helped the Flavians. It was only despair which made the Vitellians rush wildly onwards, and despite being routed they re-formed repeatedly inside the city.
83. The people of Rome stayed and watched the fighting as if they were spectators at a gladiatorial show, cheering and clapping now one side then the other in turn. Whenever one side gave way and soldiers would hide in shops or take refuge in some house, the people clamoured for them to be dragged out and killed. This meant that the people gained most of the loot, for the soldiers were bent on bloodshed and slaughter, so the spoils fell to the crowd.106
The whole city presented a brutal caricature of its normal self – fighting and casualties at one point, baths and restaurants at another, bloody heaps of corpses right next to prostitutes and their like. All the perverse passions associated with a life of luxury went hand-in-hand with whatever criminal acts you would expect during the most pitiless sacking of a city, so much so that you would have thought that the city was in the grip of a simultaneous orgy of violence and pleasure. Armies had clashed in the city before this, twice when Lucius Sulla gained control, and once under Cinna.107 There was no less cruelty back then, but what was so inhuman now was the indifference of people who did not interrupt their pleasures even for a moment. As if this were one more entertainment for the holiday, they gloated over horrors and profited by them, careless which side won and glorying in the calamities of the state.
84. The storming of the praetorian camp108 involved the heaviest fighting, since it was held by the most determined Vitellians who saw it as their last hope. This spurred on the victors all the more, particularly the ex-praetorians, and they simultaneously deployed all the resources ever designed to storm the most powerful cities – the testudo, artillery, earthworks and firebrands – and shouted out again and again that this operation was the climax of all the toil and danger they had endured in so many battles. Rome, they cried, had been handed back to senate and people, their temples to the gods, but the soldier’s special pride lay in his camp: that was his country, that was his home! If they could not recover it at once, the night would have to be spent under arms. On the opposing side, the Vitellians, despite being outnumbered and doomed, embraced the final consolation granted to the defeated by marring the victory, delaying peace and desecrating homes and altars with blood. Many of them lost consciousness and died on the towers and ramparts, and after the gates were torn down a compact group of survivors charged at the victors. They all fell with their wounds in front, facing the enemy. Such was their concern to die honourably even as they were facing their final moment.
After the city was captured, Vitellius was taken in a chair through the back of the palace to his wife’s house on the Aventine, with the intention of escaping to his cohorts and his brother at Tarracina, if he could lie low during the remaining hours of daylight. Then he returned to the palace, typically mercurial and true to the psychology of panic when someone who fears everything finds the present course of action the least palatable of all. The building was empty and deserted, for even the humblest of his slaves had slipped away or was making efforts to avoid him. The solitude and silence of the place frightened him. He tried locked doors and shuddered at the emptiness. Exhausted by his pitiful wanderings and concealed in some degrading hiding place,109 he was hauled out by Julius Placidus, a tribune of the guards. His hands were tied behind his back. With his clothes torn to shreds he was led forth, a revolting spectacle, as the onlookers cursed him and not a single person shed a tear, for the squalour of his end had robbed it of pity. On the way, a soldier from the army of Germany angrily aimed a blow at Vitellius, or else perhaps he just wanted to spare him further humiliation or was trying to attack the tribune. In any event, he cut off the tribune’s ear, and was immediately cut down.
85. Prodded by the swords of his enemies, Vitellius was forced now to look up and face their insults, now to watch the statues of himself as they came toppling down and above all to behold the rostra and the spot where Galba was murdered.110 Finally, they drove him to the Gemonian Steps where the body of Flavius Sabinus had lain.111 One remark of his was overheard which indicated that his spirit was not wholly degenerate. As a tribune was mocking him, he retorted that he had nevertheless been the man’s emperor. Thereupon, he collapsed beneath a barrage of blows; and the mob ridiculed their dead emperor just as maliciously as they had flattered him while he was alive.
86. His father, as I have already recorded, was Lucius Vitellius the censor and three times consul.112 His home town was Luceria. He was fifty-seven years old when he died, having won the consulship, various priesthoods and a name and place among the leading figures of Rome, all thanks to his father’s eminence and without the slightest effort on his own part. The principate was offered to Vitellius by men who did not know him personally. Few commanders have made themselves so popular with the army by good actions as he did by doing nothing. However, he displayed frankness and generosity, although these qualities can prove disastrous if unchecked. Thinking that maintaining friendships depended on the lavishness of gifts, not on the steadiness of one’s character, he deserved friends but did not have any. It was undoubtedly in the public interest that Vitellius was defeated, but those who betrayed him to Vespasian cannot claim credit for their act when they had treacherously abandoned Galba for Vitellius in the first place.
The day was turning into evening. It was impossible to call a meeting of the senate since the panic-stricken magistrates and senators had slipped out of the city or were hiding themselves in the houses of their clients. When there was nothing more to fear from the enemy, Domitian presented himself to the Flavian generals and was hailed as ‘Caesar’. The troops crowded round and just as they were, still armed, escorted him to his father’s home.113