1. First Man in Rome
Page 51
Marcus Aurelius Cotta brought the tribunes of the soldiers into Arausio himself, plodding the five miles behind oxen because the pace and the kind of cart made it an easier journey; his fellows he left trying to organize some kind of order out of the chaos. Marcus Antonius Meminius had managed to persuade some of the local Gallic tribesmen who lived on farmsteads around Arausio to go out to the battlefield and do what they could to help. "But," said Cotta to Meminius when he arrived at the local magistrate's villa, "this is the evening of the third day, and somehow we have to dispose of the dead." "The townspeople are gone, and the farmers convinced the Germans will be back you've no idea how hard I had to talk to get anyone to go out there and help you," said Meminius. "I don't know where the Germans are," said Cotta, "and I can't work out why they headed back into the north. But so far, I haven't seen a sign of them. Unfortunately I don't have anyone to send out to scout, the battlefield is more important." "Oh!" Meminius clapped his hand to his brow. "A fellow came in about four hours ago, and from what I can gather I can't understand him he's one of the German interpreters who were attached to the cavalry camp. He has Latin, but his accent is too thick for me. Would you talk to him? He might be willing to scout for you." So Cotta sent for the German, and what he learned changed everything. "There has been a terrible quarrel, the council of thanes is split, and the three peoples have gone their separate ways," the man said. "A quarrel among the thanes, you mean?" asked Cotta. "Well, between Teutobod of the Teutones and Boiorix of the Cimbri, at least in the beginning," said the interpreter. "The warriors went back to get the wagons started, and the council met to divide the spoils. There was much wine taken from the three camps of the Romans, and the council drank it. Then Teutobod said he had had a dream while he rode back to the wagons of his people, and was visited by the great god Ziu, and Ziu told him that if his people kept marching south into the Roman lands, the Romans would inflict a defeat upon them that would see all the warriors, the women, and the children slain or sold into slavery. So Teutobod said he was going to take the Teutones to Spain through the lands of the Gauls, not the lands of the Romans. But Boiorix took great exception to this, accused Teutobod of cowardice, and announced that the Cimbri would go south through the Roman lands, no matter what the Teutones did.'' "Are you sure of all this?" Cotta asked, hardly able to believe it. "How do you know? From hearsay? Or were you there?" "I was there, dominus." "Why were you there? How were you there?" "I was waiting to be taken to the Cimbri wagons, since I am Cimbric. And they were all very drunk, so no one noticed me. I found I did not want to be a German anymore, so I thought I would learn what I could, and escape." "Go on, then, man!" said Cotta eagerly. "Well, the rest of the thanes joined in the argument, and then Getorix, who leads the Marcomanni and Cherusci and Tigurini, proposed that the matter be settled by remaining among the Aedui and Ambarri. But no one except his own people wanted to do that. The Teutonic thanes sided with Teutobod, and the Cimbric thanes with Boiorix. So the council ended yesterday with the three peoples all wanting different things. Teutobod has ordered the Teutones to travel into far Gaul, and make their way to Spain through the lands of the Cardurci and Petrocorii. Getorix and his people are going to stay among the Aedui and Ambarri. And Boiorix is going to lead the Cimbri to the other side of the great river Rhodanus, and travel to Spain along the outskirts of the Roman lands, rather than through them." "So that's why there's been no sign of them!" said Cotta. "Yes, dominus. They will not be coming south through the Roman lands," said the German. Back went Cotta to Marcus Antonius Meminius, and told him the news, smiling broadly. "Spread the word, Marcus Meminius, and as quickly as possible! For you must get all those bodies burned, otherwise your ground and your water will be contaminated, and disease will do more damage to the people of Arausio than the Germans could," said Cotta. He frowned, chewed his lip. "Where is Quintus Servilius Caepio?" "Already on his way to Rome, Marcus Aurelius." "What?" “He left with his son to bring the news to Rome as quickly as he could," said Meminius, puzzled. "Oh, I'll just bet he did!" said Cotta grimly. "Is he going by road?" "Of course, Marcus Aurelius. I gave him four-mule gigs out of my own stables." Cotta stood up, bone tired but filled with new vigor. "I will bring the news of Arausio to Rome," he said. "If I have to grow wings and fly, I'll beat Quintus Servilius, I swear it! Marcus Meminius, give me the best horse you can find. I start for Massilia at the crack of dawn." He rode at the gallop for Massilia, unescorted, commandeered a fresh horse in Glanum, and another in Aquae Sextiae, and got to Massilia seven hours after leaving Arausio. The great seaport founded by the Greeks centuries before had heard not one word about the great battle fought four days earlier; Cotta found the city so sleek and Greek, so white and bright in a fever of apprehension at the coming of the Germans. The house of the ethnarch pointed out to him, Cotta walked in with all the arrogance and haste of a Roman curule magistrate on urgent business. As Massilia enjoyed ties of friendship with Rome without submitting to Roman rule, Cotta could have been politely shown the door. But of course he was not. Especially after the ethnarch and a few of his councillors living close by had heard what Cotta had to say. "I want the fastest ship you've got, and the best sailors and oarsmen in Massilia," he said. "There's no cargo to slow the ship down, so I'll carry two spare teams of oarsmen in case we have to row against the wind and into a head sea. Because I swear to you, Ethnarch Aristides, that I will be in Rome in three days, if it means rowing the whole way! We're not going to hug the coast we're going. in as straight a line for Ostia as the best navigator in Massilia can sail. When's the next tide?" “You will have your ship and your crew by dawn , Marcus Aurelius, and that happens to coincide with the tide," said the ethnarch gently. He coughed with great delicacy. "Who will be paying?" Typical Massiliote Greek, thought Cotta, but didn't say so aloud. "Write me out a bill," he said. "The Senate and People of Rome will be paying." The bill was written at once; Cotta looked down at the outrageous price and grunted. "It's a tragedy," he said to Ethnarch Aristides, "when bad news costs enough to fight another war against the Germans. I don't suppose you'd lop a few drachmae off?" "I agree, it is a tragedy," said the ethnarch smoothly. "However, business is business. The price stands, Marcus Aurelius. Take it or leave it." "I'll take it," said Cotta.
Caepio and his son didn't bother to take the detour a visit to Massilia would have meant for a road traveler. No one knew better than Caepio veteran of a year in Narbo and a year in Spain when he had been praetor that the winds always blew the wrong way across the Sinus Gallicus. He would take the Via Domitia up the valley of the Druentia River, cross into Italian Gaul through the Mons Genava Pass, and hurry as fast as he could down the Via Aemilia and the Via Flaminia. Hopefully he could average seventy miles a day if he managed to commandeer decent animals often enough, and he expected his proconsular imperium to do that for him. It did; as the miles flew by Caepio began to feel confident that he would beat even the senatorial courier to Rome. So rapid had his crossing of the Alps been that the Vocontii, always on the lookout for vulnerable Roman travelers on the Via Domitia, were unable to organize an attack on the two galloping gigs. By the time he reached Ariminum and the end of the Via Aemilia, Caepio knew he would make it from Arausio to Rome in seven days, assisted by good roads and plenty of fresh mules. He began to relax. Exhausted he might be, a headache of huge proportions he might have, but his version of what had happened at Arausio would be the first version Rome heard, and that was nine tenths of the battle. When Fanum Fortunae appeared and the gigs turned onto the Via Flaminia for the crossing of the Apennines and the descent into the Tiber Valley, Caepio knew he had won. His was the version of Arausio Rome would believe. But Fortune had a greater favorite; Marcus Aurelius Cotta sailed the Sinus Gallicus from Massilia to Ostia in winds that veered between perfect and nonexistent, a better passage by far than could have been predicted. When the wind dropped, the professional oarsmen took their places in the outriggers, the hortator started to mark the stroke on his drum, and thirty muscled backs bent to th
e task. It was a small ship, built for speed rather than cargo, and looked suspiciously like a Massiliote fighting ship to Cotta, though the Massiliotes were not supposed to have any without Roman approval. Its two banks of oars, fifteen to a side, were housed in outriggers surmounted by decks that could easily have been fenced with a row of good stout shields and turned into fighting platforms in the twinkling of an eye, and the crane rigged on the afterdeck seemed rather haphazard in construction; perhaps, thought Cotta, a hefty catapult normally sits there. Piracy was a profitable industry, and rife from one end of the Middle Sea to the other. However, he was not the man to question a gift from Fortune, so Cotta nodded blandly when the captain explained that he specialized in passengers, and that the outrigger decks were a nice place for the passengers to stretch their legs, since cabin accommodation was a bit primitive. Before they sailed Cotta had been persuaded by the captain that two extra teams of oarsmen were excessive, for his men were the best in the business and would keep up a top pace with only one extra team. Now Cotta was glad he had agreed, for they were the lighter in weight because they carried fewer men, and the wind provided enough puff to rest both teams of rowers just when it looked as if exhaustion was going to set in. The ship had sailed out of Massilia's magnificent harbor at dawn on the eleventh day of October, and came to anchor in Ostia's dismally poor harbor at dawn on the day before the Ides, exactly three days later. And three hours later Cotta walked into the consul Publius Rutilius Rufus's house, scattering clients before him like hens before a fox. "Out!" he said to the client seated in the chair at Rutilius Rufus's desk, and threw himself wearily into the chair as the startled client scuttled to the door.
By noon the Senate had been summoned to an emergency meeting in the Curia Hostilia; Caepio and his son were at that same moment trotting briskly down the last stretch of the Via Aemilia. "Leave the doors open," said Publius Rutilius Rufus to the chief clerk. "This is one meeting the People must hear. And I want it taken down verbatim and transcribed for the records." Given the short notice, it was a fairly full House; for in the unfathomable way that news has of percolating ahead of official dissemination, the rumor was already spreading through the city that there had been a great disaster against the Germans in Gaul. The well of the Comitia near the foot of the Curia Hostilia steps was rapidly filling with people; so were the steps and all the level spaces nearby. Fully privy to Caepio's letters protesting against Mallius Maximus as well as demanding the supreme authority, and fearing a fresh round of arguments, the Conscript Fathers were edgy. Not having heard in weeks from Caepio, the doughty Marcus Aemilius Scaurus was at a disadvantage, and knew it. So when the consul Rutilius Rufus commanded that the House doors remain open, Scaurus made no move to insist they be closed. Nor did Metellus Numidicus. All eyes were riveted on Cotta, given a chair in the front row in close proximity to the dais on which stood his brother-in-law Rutilius Rufus's ivory chair. "Marcus Aurelius Cotta arrived in Ostia this morning," Rutilius Rufus said. "Three days ago he was in Massilia, and the day before that, he was in Arausio, near which our armies stationed themselves. I call upon Marcus Aurelius Cotta to speak, and give the House notice that this meeting is being transcribed verbatim for the records." Of course Cotta had bathed and changed, but there could be no mistaking the grey tinge of fatigue in his normally highly colored face, and every line of his body as he got to his feet indicated the immensity of that fatigue. "On the day before the Nones of October, Conscript Fathers, a battle was fought at Arausio," said Cotta, not needing to project his voice, for the House was utterly still. "The Germans annihilated us. Eighty thousand of our soldiers are dead." No one exclaimed, no one murmured, no one moved; the House sat in a silence as profound as that inside the Sibyl's cave at Cumae. "When I say eighty thousand soldiers, I mean just that. The noncombatant dead number some twenty-four thousand more. And the cavalry dead are separate again." His voice expressionlessly level, Cotta went on to tell the senators exactly what had happened from the time he and his five companions arrived at Arausio the fruitless dickering with Caepio; the atmosphere of confusion and unrest Caepio's flouting of orders created within Mallius Maximus's chain of command, some of whom sided with Caepio, like Caepio's son; the stranding of the consular Aurelius and the cavalry too far away to act as part of a military machine. "Five thousand troopers, all their noncombatants, and every single animal in Aurelius's camp perished. The legate Marcus Aurelius Scaurus was taken prisoner by the Germans and used as a deliberate example. They burned him alive, Conscript Fathers. He died, I was told by a witness, with extreme courage and bravery." There were ashen faces among the senators now, for most had sons or brothers or nephews or cousins in one or the other of the armies; men wept silently, heads muffled in their togas, or sat forward, faces hidden in their hands. Scaurus Princeps Senatus alone remained erect, two fierce spots of color in his cheeks, mouth a hard line. "All of you here today must take a part of the blame," said Cotta. "Your delegation did not contain one consular, and I a mere ex-praetor! was the only curule magistrate among the six. With the result that Quintus Servilius Caepio refused to speak with us as his equals in birth or seniority. Or even experience. Instead, he took our insignificance, our lack of clout, as a message from the Senate that it was behind him in his stand against Gnaeus Mallius Maximus. And he was right to do so, Conscript Fathers! If you had seriously intended to see that Quintus Servilius obeyed the law by subordinating himself to the consul of the year, you would have stuffed your delegation with consulars! But you did not. You deliberately sent five pedarii and one ex-praetor to deal with one of the House's most obdurately elitist, most senior members!'' Not a head came up; more and more were now shrouded in folds of toga. But Scaurus Princeps Senatus continued to sit bolt upright, his blazing eyes never leaving Cotta's face. "The rift between Quintus Servilius Caepio and Gnaeus Mallius Maximus prevented the amalgamation of their forces. Instead of a tightly bound single army comprising no less than seventeen legions and over five thousand horse, Rome fielded two armies twenty miles apart, with the smaller one closer to the German advance, and the body of cavalry separate again. Quintus Servilius Caepio personally told me that he would not share his triumph with Gnaeus Mallius Maximus, and so had deliberately put his army too far north of Gnaeus Mallius's to allow it any participation in his battle." Cotta drew in a rasping breath which sounded so loud in the silence that Rutilius Rufus jumped. Scaurus did not. Beside Scaurus, Metellus Numidicus poked his head slowly out of his toga, straightened to reveal a stony face. "Even leaving aside the disastrous rift between them, the truth is, Conscript Fathers, that neither Quintus Servilius nor Gnaeus Mallius had sufficient military talent to win against the Germans! However, of the two commanders, it is Quintus Servilius who must take the brunt of the blame. For not only was he as poor a general as Gnaeus Mallius, but he flouted the law as well. He put himself above the law, he deemed the law a device for lesser mortals than himself! A true Roman, Marcus Aemilius Scaurus Princeps Senatus" this was said directly to the Leader of the House, who didn't move "holds the law paramount, knowing that under the law there is no true social distinction, only a system of checks and balances we have deliberately designed to ensure that no man can consider himself above his peers. Quintus Servilius Caepio behaved like the First Man in Rome. But under the law, there cannot be a First Man in Rome! So I say to you that Quintus Servilius broke the law, where Gnaeus Mallius was simply an inadequate general." The stillness and the silence continued; Cotta sighed. "Arausio is a worse disaster than Cannae, my fellow senators. The flower of our men is perished. I know, for I was there. Perhaps thirteen thousand soldiers survived, and they the greenest troops of all fled without any order to retreat, leaving their arms and armor behind on the field, and swimming the Rhodanus to safety. They are still wandering unmustered to the west of the river somewhere, and, from some reports I have had, are so frightened of the Germans that they intend to go to earth rather than run the risk of being collected and put back into a Roman army. When he tried to s
top this rout, the tribune Sextus Julius Caesar was cut down by his own soldiers. I am pleased to say he lives, for I found him on the field myself, left for dead by the Germans. I and my companions twenty-nine, all told were the only people available to succor the wounded, and for nearly three days no others came to help. Though the vast majority of those left lying on the field were dead, there can be no doubt that some died who might not have died were there people on hand to give them aid after the battle." In spite of iron control, Metellus Numidicus moved, his hand going out in dreadful query. Cotta caught the gesture, and looked at Gaius Marius's enemy, who was his own friend; for Cotta had no love to lay on Gaius Marius's altar. "Your son, Quintus Caecilius Metellus Numidicus, survived unharmed, but not as a coward. He rescued the consul Gnaeus Mallius and some of his personal staff. However, both the sons of Gnaeus Mallius were killed. Of the twenty-four elected tribunes of the soldiers, only three survived Marcus Livius Drusus, Sextus Julius Caesar, and Quintus Servilius Caepio Junior. Marcus Livius and Sextus Julius were severely wounded. Quintus Servilius Junior who commanded the greenest legion of troops, closest to the river survived unharmed by swimming to safety, in what circumstances of personal integrity I do not know." Cotta paused to clear his throat, wondering if the vast relief in Metellus Numidicus's eyes was mostly for the simple survival of his son, or for the news that his son had been no coward. "But these casualty figures pale when compared to the fact that not one centurion of any experience in either army is now alive. Rome is officerless, Conscript Fathers! And the great army of Gaul-across-the-Alps no longer exists." He waited for a moment, then added, "It never did exist, thanks to Quintus Servilius Caepio." Outside the great bronze doors of the Curia Hostilia the news was being disseminated by those close enough to hear to those too far-away to hear, an ever-widening audience that was still gathering, now spreading up the Argiletum and the Clivus Argentarius, and across the lower Forum Romanum behind the well of the Comitia. The crowds were immense. But they were quiet crowds. The only sounds were the sounds of tears. Rome had lost the crucial battle. And Italy was open to the Germans. Before Cotta could sit down, Scaurus spoke. "And where are the Germans now, Marcus Aurelius? How much farther south of Arausio were they when you left to bring us the news? And how much farther south might they be now, this very moment?" he asked. "I honestly do not know, Princeps Senatus. For when the battle was over and it only took about an hour the Germans turned back into the north, apparently to fetch their wagons and women and children, left just to the north of the cavalry camp. But when I departed, they had not come back. And I interviewed a German man whom Marcus Aurelius Scaurus had employed as one of his interpreters when the German chiefs came to parley. This man was captured, recognized as a German, and so was not harmed. According to him, the Germans quarreled, and have for the moment, anyway split up into three separate groups. It seems none of the three groups is confident enough to press on alone south into our territory. So they are going to Spain by various routes through Long-haired Gaul. But the quarrel was induced by Roman wine taken as part of the spoils. How long the rift will persist, no one can predict. Nor can I be sure that the man I interviewed was telling all the truth. Or even part of the truth, for that matter. He says he escaped and came back because he doesn't want to live as a German anymore. But it may be that he was sent back by the Germans to lull our fears and make us even easier prey. All I can tell you for certain is that when I left, there was no sign of a southward German movement," said Cotta, and sat down. Rutilius Rufus rose to his feet. "This is not the occasion for a debate, Conscript Fathers. Nor is it an occasion for recriminations, yet more quarrels. Today is an occasion for action." "Hear, hear!" said a voice from the back. "Tomorrow is the Ides of October," Rutilius Rufus went on. "That means the campaign season is just about over. But we have very little time left to us if we are to prevent the Germans invading Italy anytime they feel like doing so. I have formulated a plan of action which I intend to present to you now, but first I am going to give you a solemn warning. At the slightest sign of argument, dissension, or any other conceivable polarization of this House, I will take my plan to the People and have it approved in the Plebeian Assembly. Thereby depriving you, Conscript Fathers, of your prerogative to take the lead in all matters pertaining to the defense of Rome. The conduct of Quintus Servilius Caepio points up the greatest weakness of our senatorial order namely, its unwillingness to admit that Chance and Fortune and Luck occasionally combine to throw up men from the lower ranks with far greater abilities than all of us who regard ourselves as entitled by birth and tradition to govern the People of Rome and command Rome's armies." He had turned his person and pitched his voice toward the open doors, and the great high sound of it floated out into the air above the Comitia. "We are going to need every able-bodied man in all of Italy, so much is sure. From the Head Count clear through the orders and classes to the Senate, every able-bodied man! I therefore require a decree from you directing the Plebs to enact a law immediately forbidding any man between the ages of seventeen and thirty-five any man, be he Roman or Latin or Italian to leave the shores of Italy, or cross the Arnus or the Rubico into Italian Gaul. By tomorrow I want couriers riding at the gallop to every port in our peninsula with orders that no ship or boat is to accept an able-bodied free man as crew or passenger. The penalty will be death, both for the man trying to avoid military service and the man accepting him." No one in the House said a word not Scaurus Princeps Senatus, not Metellus Numidicus, not Metellus Dalmaticus Pontifex Maximus, not Ahenobarbus Senior, not Catulus Caesar, not Scipio Nasica. Good, thought Rutilius Rufus. They'll not oppose that law, anyway. "All available personnel will be set to recruiting soldiers of any class from Head Count to Senate. And that means, Conscript Fathers, that those among you aged thirty-five or younger will automatically be inducted into the legions, no matter how many campaigns you have served in previously. We will get soldiers if we enforce this law rigorously. However, I very much fear we won't get enough. Quintus Servilius cleaned out the last pockets of those throughout Italy owning property, and Gnaeus Mallius took almost seventy thousand men of the Head Count, either as soldiers or as noncombatants. "So we must look to what other armies we have available. In Macedonia: two legions only, both of auxiliaries, which cannot possibly be spared duty there. In Spain: two legions in the further province, and one in the nearer province two of these legions are Roman, one auxiliary and not only will they have to stay in Spain, but they must be heavily reinforced, for the Germans say they intend to invade Spain." He paused. And Scaurus Princeps Senatus came to life at last. "Get on with it, Publius Rutilius!" he said testily. "Get to Africa and Gaius Marius!" Rutilius Rufus blinked, feigning surprise. "Why, thank you, Princeps Senatus, thank you! If you hadn't mentioned it, I might have forgotten! Oh, truly are you called the watchdog of the Senate! What would we do without you?" "Spare me the sarcasm, Publius Rutilius!" Scaurus snarled. "Just get on with it!" "Certainly! There are three aspects of Africa which I think must be mentioned. The first is a war successfully concluded an enemy completely rolled up, an enemy king and his family at this very moment waiting for retribution right here in Rome, as houseguests of our noble Quintus Caecilius Metellus Piggle-wiggle oooops, I do beg your pardon, Quintus Caecilius! Numidicus, I mean! well, here in Rome, certainly. “The second aspect,'' he went on, "is an army six legions strong composed of the Head Count, admittedly! but superbly well trained, and valiant, and brilliantly officered from the most junior centurion and cadet-tribune clear through to its legates. With it is a cavalry force two thousand strong, of equally experienced and valorous men." Rutilius Rufus stopped, rocked on his heels, grinned all around him wolfishly. "The third aspect, Conscript Fathers, is a man. One single man. I refer of course to the proconsul Gaius Marius, commander-in-chief of the African army, and sole engineer of a victory so complete it ranks with the victories of Scipio Aemilianus. Numidia will not rise again. The threat in Africa to Rome's citizens, property, province, and grain supply is now nonex
istent. In fact, Gaius Marius is bequeathing us an Africa so subjugated and pacified that it is not even necessary to put a garrison legion there." He left the dais on which stood the curule chairs, stepped down onto the black-and-white flagging of the ancient floor, and walked toward the doors, standing so that the main volume of his voice went outside into the Forum. "Rome's need for a general is even greater than her need for soldiers or centurions. As Gaius Marius once said in this very House, thousands upon thousands of Rome's soldiers have perished in the few years since the death of Gaius Gracchus due solely to the incompetence of the men who led them and their centurions! And at the time Gaius Marius spoke, Italy was still the richer by a hundred thousand men than Italy is right at this moment. But how many soldiers, centurions, and noncombatants has Gaius Marius himself lost? Why, Conscript Fathers, virtually none! Three years ago he took six legions with him to Africa, and he still has those legions alive and well. Six veteran legions, six legions with centurions'." He paused, then roared at the top of his voice, "Gaius Marius is the answer to Rome's need for an army and a competent general!" His small spare figure showed briefly against the press of listeners outside on the porch when he turned to walk back up the length of the House to his dais. There he stopped. "You have heard Marcus Aurelius Cotta say that there has been a quarrel among the Germans, and that at the moment they seem to have abandoned their intention of migrating through our province of Gaul-across-the-Alps. But we cannot possibly let ourselves relax because of this report. We must be skeptical of it, not emboldened by it to indulge in further stupidity. However, one fact seems fairly sure. That we do have the coming winter to prepare. And the first phase of preparation must be to appoint Gaius Marius proconsul in Gaul, with an imperium that cannot be rescinded until the Germans are beaten." There was a general murmur, a harbinger of coming protest. Then came the voice of Metellus Numidicus. "Give Gaius Marius the governorship of Gaul-across-the-Alps with a proconsular imperium for anything up to year*?" he asked incredulously. "Over my dead body!" Rutilius Rufus stamped his foot, shook his fist. "Oh, ye gods, there you go!" he cried. "Quintus Caecilius, Quintus Caecilius, do you not yet understand the magnitude of our plight? We need a general of Gaius Marius's caliber!" "We need his troops," said Scaurus Princeps Senatus loudly. "We do not need Gaius Marius! There are others here as good." "Meaning your friend Quintus Caecilius Piggle-wiggle, Marcus Aemilius?" Rutilius Rufus blew a rude noise. "Rubbish! For two years Quintus Caecilius fiddled about in Africa I know, because I was there! I worked with Quintus Caecilius, and Piggle-wiggle is an apt name for that gentleman, because he's as turgidly calculating as any woman's piggle-wiggle! I have also worked with Gaius Marius. And perhaps it is not too much to hope that some of the members of this House remember about me that I am no mean Military Man myself! I should have been given the command in Gaul-across-the-Alps, not Gnaeus Maximus! But that is past, and 1 do not have the time to waste in recriminations. "I say to you now, Conscript Fathers, that Rome's plight is too huge and urgent to pander to a few individuals at the top of our noble tree! I say to you now, Conscript Fathers all you who sit on the middle tiers of both sides of the House, and all you who sit on the back tiers of both sides of this House! that there is only one man with the ability to lead us out of our peril! And that one man is Gaius Marius! What matter, that he isn't in the studbook? What matter, that he isn't a Roman of Rome? Quintus Servilius Caepio is a Roman of Rome, and look where he's put us! Do you know where he's put us? Right in the middle of the shit!" Rutilius Rufus was roaring, angry and afraid, sure now that they wouldn't see the reason of his proposal. "Honorable members of this House Good Men all fellow senators! I beseech you to put aside your prejudices just this once! We must give Gaius Marius proconsular power in Gaul-across-the-Alps for however long it is going to take to shove the Germans back to Germania!" And this last passionate plea worked. He had them. Scaurus knew it; Metellus Numidicus knew it. The praetor Manius Aquillius rose to his feet; a man noble enough, but coming from a family whose history was checkered with more deeds of cupidity than deeds of glory; his father it was who, in the wars after King Attalus of Pergamum willed his kingdom to Rome, had sold the whole land of Phrygia to the fifth King Mithridates of Pontus for a huge sum of gold, and thereby let the inscrutable Orient into western Asia Minor. "Publius Rutilius, I wish to speak," he said. "Speak, then," said Rutilius Rufus, and sat down, spent. "I wish to speak!" said Scaurus Princeps Senatus angrily. "After Manius Aquillius," said Rutilius Rufus sweetly. '' Publius Rutilius, Marcus Aemilius, Conscript Fathers,'' Aquillius began correctly, "I agree with the consul that there is only one man with the genius to extricate us from our plight, and I agree that man is Gaius Marius. But the answer our esteemed consul has proposed is not the right one. We cannot handicap Gaius Marius with a proconsular imperium limited to Gaul-across-the-Alps. First of all, what happens if the war moves out of Gaul-across-the-Alps? What if its theater shifts to Italian Gaul, or Spain, or even to Italy itself? Why, the command will automatically shift to the appropriate governor, or to the consul of the year! Gaius Marius has many enemies in this House. And I for one am not sure that those enemies will hold Rome dearer than their grudges. The refusal of Quintus Servilius Caepio to collaborate with Gnaeus Mallius Maximus is a perfect example of what happens when a member of the old nobility holds his dignitas more important than Rome's dignitas." "You are mistaken, Manius Aquillius," Scaurus interjected. "Quintus Servilius held his dignitas identical to Rome's!" "I thank you for the correction, Princeps Senatus," said Aquillius smoothly, and with a little bow no one could honestly call ironic. "You are absolutely correct to correct me. The dignitas of Rome and that of Quintus Servilius Caepio are identical! But why do you hold the dignitas of Gaius Marius as so inferior to Quintus Servilius Caepio's? Surely Gaius Marius's personal share is quite as high, if not higher, even if his ancestors owned not a scrap! Gaius Marius's personal career has been illustrious! And does any member of this House seriously believe that Gaius Marius thinks of Arpinum first, Rome second? Does any member of this House seriously believe Gaius Marius thinks of Arpinum in any other way than that it is a part of Rome? All of us have ancestors who were once New Men! Even Aeneas who came to Latium from far-off Ilium, after all! was a New Man! Gaius Marius has been praetor and consul. He has therefore ennobled himself, and his descendants to the very end of time will be noble." Aquillius's eyes roved across the white-clad ranks. "I see several Conscript Fathers here today who bear the name of Porcius Cato. Now their grandfather was a New Man. But do we today think of these Porcii Catones as anything save pillars of this House, noble descendants of a man who in his own day had much the same effect on men with the name of Cornelius Scipio as Gaius Marius has today on men with the name of Caecilius Metellus?" He shrugged, got down from the dais, and emulated Rutilius Rufus by striding down the floor of the House to a position near the open doors. "It is Gaius Marius and no other who must retain supreme command against the Germans. No matter where the theater of war might be! Therefore it is not enough to invest Gaius Marius with a proconsular imperium limited to Gaul-across-the-Alps." He turned to face the House, and thundered his words. "As is evident, Gaius Marius is not here to give his personal opinion, and time is galloping away as fast as a bolting horse. Gaius Marius must be consul. That is the only way we can give him the power he is going to need. He must be put up as a candidate for the coming consular elections a candidate in absentia!" The House was growling, murmuring, but Manius Aquillius carried on, and carried their attention. "Can anyone here deny that the men of the Centuries are the finest flower of the People? So I say to you, let the men of the Centuries decide! By either electing Gaius Marius consul in absentia, or not electing him! For this decision of the supreme command is too big for this House to make. And it is also too big for the Assembly of the Plebs or even of the Whole People to make. I say to you, Conscript Fathers, that the decision of the supreme command against the Germans must be handed to that section of the Roman People who matter the most the m
en of the First and the Second Classes of citizens, voting in their centuries in their own Assembly, the Comitia Centuriata!" Oh, here is Ulysses! thought Rutilius Rufus. I would never have thought of this! Nor do I approve. But he's got the Scaurus faction by the balls just the same. No, it would never have worked to take the vexed question of Gaius Marius's imperium to the People in their tribes, have the whole thing conducted by the tribunes of the plebs in an atmosphere of shouting, yelling, even rioting crowds! To men like Scaurus, the Plebeian Assembly is an excuse for the rabble to run Rome. But the men of the First and Second Classes? Oh, they're a very different breed of Roman! Clever, clever Manius Aquillius! First you do something unheard of, by proposing that a man be elected consul when he isn't even here to stand for office, and then you let the Scaurus faction know that you are willing to have the whole question decided by Rome's finest! If Rome's finest don't want Gaius Marius, then all they have to do is organize the First and Second Classes of the Centuries to vote for two other men. If they do want Gaius Marius, then all they have to do is vote for him and one other man. And I'd be willing to bet that the Third Class doesn't even get a chance to vote! Exclusivity is satisfied. The real legal quibble is the in absentia proviso. Manius Aquillius will have to go to the Plebeian Assembly for that, though, because the Senate won't give it to him. Look at the tribunes of the plebs wriggling with glee on their bench! There won't be a veto among them they'll take the in absentia dispensation to the Plebs, and the Plebs, dazzled by the vision of ten tribunes of the plebs in accord, will pass a special law enabling Gaius Marius to be elected consul in absentia. Of course Scaurus and Metellus Numidicus and the others will argue the binding power of the lex Villia annalis, which says that no man can stand a second time for the consulship until ten years have elapsed. And Scaurus and Metellus Numidicus and the others will lose. This Manius Aquillius needs watching, thought Rutilius Rufus, turning in his chair to watch. Amazing! he thought. They can sit there for years as demure and tractable as a new little Vestal Virgin, and then all of a sudden the opportunity presents itself, and off comes the sheep's disguise, forth stands the wolf. You, Manius Aquillius, are a wolf.