Adapted from Herodian’s history of his own times, original translation J. Hart 1749.
Antoninus, having now taken power, began to perform cruelty and murders. He put to death the physicians who had refused to murder his father as he ordered, together with all his own and Geta’s tutors, because they attempted to reconcile him with his brother. Nor did he allow one man of honour or authority among all his father’s servants to long survive their old master. By large bribes and larger promises, he tempted the principal officers to persuade the army to declare him sole Emperor, and by all kinds of artifices he plotted his brother’s ruin. But the soldiers would not comply. For remembering that Severus had educated both with equal care, they resolved to pay the same respect and obedience to both.
When Antoninus therefore found that he could not get what he wished from the army, he made a treaty with the barbarians and granted them peace. Having received hostages of their faith, he left the enemy territory and marched back hastily to his brother and mother. She, with the assistance of the chief officers and counsellors, her husband’s friends, tried with all her power to bring them to agreement. Antoninus, at length, when all opposed his plans, was prevailed upon to make a show of reconciliation, more out of necessity than choice, for his malice still remained in his breath, somewhat smothered, but not extinguished.
The two brothers, co-partners in Imperial affairs, agreed to embark their troops and hasten to Rome, carrying with them their father’s remains (for the corpse was burnt and the ashes enclosed in an alabaster urn with all kinds of spices and sweet smells), in order to inter them among the sacred tombs of the Emperors. They set sail with the army in triumph for their victories over the Britons, and having crossed the sea, landed on the opposite coast of Gaul.
This Third Book ends with the account of Severus’ death and the joint succession of his two sons to the Empire.
The memorable actions of Severus, during the whole eighteen years of his rule, have been related in the preceding book. His sons, both still very young, together with their mother, proceeded to Rome with haste, quarrelling frequently along the way. They did not stay in the same inn or use the same table, and took strict care when eating or drinking for fear that the other may have secretly mixed some poison in the food, or corrupted some of the other’s slaves to poison their master. These suspicions made them pursue their journey with greater speed, for they believed they might have better security in Rome, because, having divided the sovereignty, they imagined that in a spacious palace, greater than any city, and containing so many separate apartments, they should be able to live each as they pleased.
When they arrived in Rome, the people, with laurel in their hands, gave them a joyful reception, and the Senate addressed them in the usual manner. The two princes went first, clothed in Imperial Purple. Next came the consuls, bearing the urn in which were the remains of Severus. The senators and magistrates, after saluting the new Emperors, paid their respects to the urn. Then all in their respective ranks joined the procession and followed with the urn with great pomp to the temple, where it was deposited among the sacred monuments of Marcus and the former Emperors.
After performing these ceremonies, as the law required, the two Emperors retired to the palace, which they divided between them, and took care to block all the private avenues and passages, and permitted none to enter or leave except by the public gates and entrances of the court. The brothers never met, except when they decided to appear together in public, and this was seldom.
The first thing they did was to perform the funeral rites for their father. It is a custom among the Romans to consecrate those of their Emperors who die and leave sons or designated successors, and they call this apotheosis. At this ceremony there is a big show of mourning, feasting and worshipping throughout the whole city. The corpse is buried the same as any other man, but in a very costly manner, with an image made of wax representing very closely the size and form of the deceased which lay on a magnificent bed of state made of ivory, with coverings richly embroidered with gold. The bed is raised and exposed to view in one of the galleries of the court. The image has a pale, languid countenance like a sick person, and is attended for most of the day by the most illustrious of people, for on the left side of the bed the members of the Senate sit in black mourning robes, and on the right, the women of quality, whose husbands or fathers are the principal officers of state. None of these ladies has any ornament of gold or jewels, but they are all dressed in plain white, and in every way resemble mourners. For seven days, the image lies in state, during which the physicians pay constant visits, approach the bed, inspect the fictitious patient, and every time declare that he grows worse and there appears no hope of recovery.
At last he is said to be dead, and the highest of the equestrians, together with some young senators, take up the bed and bear it along the Sacred Way to the Old Forum, where the principal magistrates of the Romans give up their authority. On each side are stairs, raised in the form of ladders, on one side a choir of boys picked from the sons of the best families, and on the other, young ladies of similar quality and distinction. These sing funeral dirges and hymns in honour of the deceased, with words and tunes adapted to the mournfulness of the occasion.
This done, the bed is taken up again and carried out of the city to the Campus Martius, where it is raised in the widest part of the plain, a large square building composed of no other materials than wood, representing a fort. The inside is filled with dry combustible matter, but the outside is beautifully decorated with rich hangings wrought with gold, ivory statues and all kinds of paintings. Above this is another floor, built in the same form and equally embellished, but smaller than the first, with open doors and windows. Then a third and a fourth, smaller as they rise, till the top appears sharp and pointed, like those pyramids which are erected at the entrances of certain ports to light ships safe into their harbours by night. They are commonly called phari or lighthouses. The bed is carried up and placed in the second storey of the edifice, amidst great quantities of rich spices and odours of every kind the earth offers, to which they add the most delicious fruits, fragrant herbs and sweet juices brought from all parts of the world. For there is neither nation nor city, nor person of distinction or honour, who is not proud of bestowing some costly presents on this fort, in honour of the Emperor. When these spicy and fragrant oblations are amassed to an immense heap, so that the whole place is filled with them, a kind of cavalcade is performed by all the Roman equestrians, who ride around the building keeping exact time, doubling and redoubling in a sort of course they called the Pyrrhichian Rhythmus. Chariots likewise circle the structure, keeping the same regular time and measure. Their conductors are clothed in purple robes, personifying the most illustrious generals or Emperors of the Romans, adorned with all the badges and ensigns of their respective dignities.
After these rites have been completed, the successor to the Imperial throne takes a lighted torch to the edifice and sets fire to the dry, combustible matter on each side, which conveys the fire to the spices and perfumes. Soon the whole fabric is in flame. Out of the last and narrowest floor, as if from the summit of a lofty tower, an eagle is let fly, and this ascends with the flame and smoke into the air. It is believed by the Romans to soar into the heavens, bearing the soul of the departed Emperor, who from this time forth is worshipped as are the other deities.
When the divine honours had been performed for their father, the young princes returned to the Imperial Palace, where they continually quarrelled, hated, and plotted against one another. Each of them spent his whole time in contriving means to murder his brother and make himself sole ruler of the Empire. This gave rise to factions and feuds among all who had honour or authority in the city. Each of the princes, by secret letters, bribes and promises, endeavoured to bring followers over to his side. The greatest part favoured Geta because he showed moderation in his temper, was civil and accessible and employed himself in serious studies. He conversed with men of learning, was frequently in the palaestra and was very fond of the best gymnastic exercises. Word of his pleasant character to those about him gained him the love of most of the people. On the contrary, Antoninus was imperious and turbulent, and rejecting the exercises mentioned above, pretended to be a lover of military discipline and the life of the warrior, acting always with rage. He seldom persuaded and frequently threatened, and he was fonder of making friends by fear than winning them by gentleness and affability. Their mother did everything in her power to bring her sons closer, but they still showed an irreconcilable enmity in all their actions, and quarrelled about the most trifling and petty things. At last, they decided to divide the Empire, so that each brother might be safe from the treachery of the other, of which both were afraid while they remained in Rome.
They therefore called together their father’s friends and their mother, and proposed that the Empire be divided according to the following stipulations:
I. Antoninus to be sole master of all Europe and Geta to rule Asia (for they said these continents seemed to be so divided on purpose by some divine providence, by the straits of the Propontis.
II. That Antoninus have a camp at Byzantium and Geta at Chalcedon in Bithynia, that the army on either side of the Propontis might guard the frontiers of their respective realms, and prevent any invasion from the opposite side.
III. That the Senate be likewise divided, so those under the dominion of the European sovereign to remain in Rome, while the rest would follow Geta to Asia.
IV. That Geta could keep his court either at Antioch or Alexandria, both of which are very large cities and not much inferior to Rome.
V. That of the Southern Nations, Mauretania, the Numidians and the adjoining part of Libya belong to Antoninus, while the rest of the countries to the east remained under the government of Geta.
While the two princes were debating these propositions, everyone around them seemed dejected and hung their heads in silence. But Julia the mother vented her grief, saying, ‘You find means, my sons, to divide the Earth and Sea between you and the stream between, you say, severs the two continents. But how will you be able to divide your mother? How am I, your unhappy parent, to be torn asunder and shared between you both? There is just one way. First, sheathe your swords in my breast, and then let my body be cut into two, that each prince may bury half his mother in his own territory. So I shall be equally parted between you, together with your Empire of the earth and sea.’
These words were uttered with tears and cries of grief. She took them both by the hand, embraced them in her arms, and with all the tenderness of a mother’s love, begged them to lay aside all thoughts of separation. This scene was so affecting that all present were moved to pity. The assembly was dismissed and the scheme abandoned, and the youths retired to their separate apartments.
But their hatred and disagreements still increased. Whenever a post of honour or power fell vacant, each endeavoured to fill it with his own friends, or if they sat in court on judgement, their findings were always opposing, sometimes to the ruin of the parties concerned, for their love of opposition was more powerful than their regard for justice. The same spirit appeared in all their public appearances. No kind of treachery was left unattempted, but each tried to persuade his brother’s cooks and cup-bearers to mix poison into his food. This was difficult, though, because they both ate and drank with the strictest caution.
At last, Antoninus, tired with frequent disappointments and increasingly desiring sole rule, resolved to put the finishing stroke to his black design with the sword, or else to die in the attempt. Since secret means had proved ineffectual, he decided to proceed to dangerous and desperate measures. He therefore entered the chamber where he had an appointment to meet his mother and her son, and when some centurions who had been posted there for that purpose, rushed out with their weapons, the horror of the boy and his mother, hers from maternal love and his from the sight of instant death, Geta was fatally wounded, and poured out his blood on his mother’s breast, and died.
After this murder was perpetrated, Antoninus rushed out of the room and ran through the palace, crying that an attempt had been made against his life, and with much difficulty he had escaped the treason. He ordered the Praetorians on guard at the court to come to his rescue and take him directly to the camp, that the army might guard him, for it was no longer safe in the palace. The guards, believing him and ignorant of what had been committed, seeing him flee with such speed, fled with him, while the people were worried to see the Emperor running through the streets at dusk. When he arrived at the camp, he went straight to the temple where all the ensigns and images of the army are worshipped, and fell prostrate on the ground, and gave thanks for his deliverance.
But when the soldiers heard about this, even though some were bathing and some were at rest, they all ran to the temple. Antoninus came out and concealing what he had done, exclaimed that he had just escaped from imminent danger from an enemy and traitor (meaning his brother), and that he had managed to get the better of his adversaries, and after both parties had fought to the death, he had remained the sole surviving Emperor. By these hints, he tried to make the murder understood, and he promised, if they would keep him safe, he would give each soldier 2,500 denarii, and their ration would be increased by half. He then bid them to go and take the money which was deposited in the temples and treasury, and thus, in one day, he squandered all the wealth Severus had accumulated from the ruin of other people in the space of eighteen years. The soldiers, tempted by the offer of so much money, and understanding what had been done (for the murder was now shouted about by those who had fled there from the palace), saluted him as sole Emperor and declared Geta an enemy.