Rome’s Fallen Eagle

by Robert Fabbri

  ‘Indeed, Princeps.’

  ‘And I believe that you have no house of your own and that your family is lodging with your uncle, Gaius Vespasius Pollo.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ Vespasian replied hesitantly, wondering why Claudius had all of a sudden taken such an interest in his domestic affairs.

  ‘Then that’s perfect. When I get back to Rome I will arrange for your wife to move into an apartment in the palace; I’m sure she would appreciate her own home and I’m sure that my darling Messalina would love her company. And then, of course, our two boys can be playmates.’

  Vespasian felt sick as Claudius released him from his grip. Playmates? Forcing down the horror that welled inside of him, he kept his face blank as he walked away from the Emperor, past Corvinus, who smiled, broad and innocent.

  Flavia had got her wish, a home of her own.

  But whilst he served the Emperor in Britannia, his wife and children would live or die in Rome at the whim of Corvinus and his sister, the Empress, Messalina.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  THIS WORK OF Historical Fiction is based on the writings of Suetonius, Tacitus, Cassius Dio and Josephus.

  Josephus gives us the most detailed description of Caligula’s assassination and Claudius’ elevation and I have kept to the basic facts; however, for the sake of the narrative I have compressed the time-line somewhat. Milonia Caesonia and her daughter, Julia Drusilla, were murdered by Lupus the following day, not immediately after Caligula’s death in a covered passage; the young girl’s head was, however, dashed against a wall. The deliberations of the Senate and the toing and froing between them and the Praetorian camp, where Claudius was being held, went on for a couple of days. Herod Agrippa did play a major role in the transition of power, which explains why Josephus recounts the episode in such detail.

  The plot to kill Caligula was far more wide-ranging than I have shown but I have kept the numbers of conspirators down for simplicity’s sake. Callistus is mentioned by Cassius Dio, who also gives us the pleasing detail of the Consul, Pomponius Secundus, kissing Caligula’s slippers whilst watching the entertainment. Suetonius tells us that a farce called Laureolus and a tragedy by Cinyras had been performed that morning and in true Suetonius style he points out that the same tragedy had been performed at the games at which Philip II of Macedon was assassinated. Not having access to either of these two pieces I used The Pot of Gold by Plautus translated by a fellow alumnus of Christ’s Hospital school, E. F. Watling.

  Sabinus being involved in the conspiracy is my fiction, although his brother-in-law, Clemens, is mentioned by Josephus and was executed, along with most of the others, for his part in the plot. A couple of the conspirators were allowed to commit suicide, Cornelius Sabinus being one of them, but I have taken the liberty of having them all executed for dramatic effect.

  The influence that Claudius’ freedmen had over their master is a subject for debate. In this fiction I have chosen to emphasise it. However, the fact that they all became immensely wealthy before their various demises shows that their influence must have been considerable.

  We do not know when Vespasian’s father died; in all likelihood it would have been earlier than this but I kept him hanging on, firstly for the plot and also so that there could be a farewell.

  Artebudz’s mention of his memorial to his father, Brogduos, is a reference to one of the only two surviving inscriptions in the Noric language that, coming from Noricum, Artebudz would have spoken. Rather pleasingly Artebudz probably translates as ‘bear penis’; I wonder how he would get on at school nowadays!

  Suetonius tells us that it was through Narcissus’ patronage that Vespasian received the command of the II Augusta.

  The future Emperor Galba was Governor of Germania Superior at this time so Vespasian would have met him when he arrived there in AD 41. Galba did indeed repel a Chatti raid in this year.

  Corbulo being the legate whom Vespasian takes over from is, of course, fiction; as an ex-consul he was far too senior for such a post but it is not entirely unfeasible for Caligula to have given him the post as a humiliation. However, I wanted him there so that we could have a scene with him and Lucius Paetus; later in life they were both generals out in the East and the steady and reliable Corbulo had to come to the aid of the flamboyant Paetus. Their mutual loathing did not help the conduct of that campaign.

  Publius Gabinius is credited by Tacitus and Cassius Dio with the retrieval of the lost Eagle of the XVII from the Chauci in AD 41; Vespasian and Sabinus’ part in it is my fiction, as is the role of Thumelicus. Thumelicus and Thusnelda were sent to Ravenna after starring in Germanicus’ triumph; Tacitus tells us that Thumelicus was trained as a gladiator and promises to tell us his fate at the appropriate time in his narrative. The fact that he never does probably means that Thumelicus died in one of the gaps in The Annals, most likely between AD 29 and 31. However, it is not impossible that it was during the later gap between AD 37 and 47, in which case I felt justified in having him alive for this fiction.

  Adgandestrius was King of the Chatti at this time and had offered Tiberius to poison Arminius; the offer had been declined. Arminius’ Germanic name may well have been Erminaz, and I have added the ‘t’ to make it Erminatz to get closer to modern German pronunciation.

  As to the invasion of Britannia: we know very little about it from the primary sources, Tacitus’ account being lost, Cassius Dio’s being short and Suetonius being dismissively brief in his biography of Claudius and sketchy in that of Vespasian. In fact, the only legion that we can say with some certainty that took part was the II Augusta, as we know that Vespasian was the legate at the time and he is attested as being a part of the invasion by both Suetonius and Cassius Dio, who also mentions Sabinus and Geta; Corvinus being the fourth legate is my fiction. Archaeological evidence places the VIIII, XIIII and XX Legions as part of the force and that is now accepted so I have gone with it, although it is by no means certain.

  The operation itself was massive and nothing was seen on that scale again until the Normandy landings – a conjecture that will no doubt leave me open to many letters. To appreciate the huge logistical undertaking I thoroughly recommend John Peddie’s masterful Conquest: The Roman Invasion of Britain. Brigadier Peddie approaches the subject from a military as well as a historical point of view and fills in the gaps of our knowledge with practical military hypotheses. With the Romans being both military and practical I found Peddie’s analysis of what might have happened the most convincing that I have read, and therefore based my account of the invasion and a good deal of the battle of the Medway on his work. I have also used his research into the auxiliary cohorts that may have taken part in the invasion and his calculation of when the invasion must have taken place in order to get the Emperor back across the Channel before the autumn equinox. Thank you, John.

  The troops did at first refuse to embark and Cassius Dio tells us that it was the bizarre sight of a freedman, Narcissus, attempting to address free soldiers of Rome in the Emperor’s name that caused such amusement with cries of ‘Io Saturnalia!’ that they decided to follow Plautius willingly. I have embellished this somewhat, and the use of the XVII’s Eagle is my fiction, as is Caenis becoming Narcissus’ secretary.

  Romans held their markets every eight days, but because they counted inclusively a ‘market interval’ was reckoned as being nine days.

  I have discounted the theory of landing at Chichester Harbour due to the unsupportable nature of an advance north to the Thames and the exposure of both flanks of the column to hostile territory. Likewise I have discounted the fanciful idea that Sentius Saturninus took the VIIII Hispana in at York and then came south; firstly the supply lines would be so long over the treacherous North Sea as to make it an exercise in madness and secondly because Saturninus had been consul two years previously and therefore was very unlikely to have been a legate. I have also discounted the idea of three separate landings because it would seem foolish to divide one’s force before one has se
cured a safe amount of territory and, seeing as the major objective was Camulodunum, the obvious way to get there seems to me as I have described in the narrative. The three separate forces that Cassius Dio mentions I have chosen to interpret as three waves.

  I have placed the landing at Richborough, or Rutupiae, because to me that makes most strategic sense. Thanet was a proper island at that time and the main part of the fleet probably landed in the strait between it and the mainland that has now become the Wantsum channel. The shooting star that Cassius Dio mentions travelling from east to west in the direction that they were sailing is taken as proof by some that Chichester was the landing site, as to get to Richborough from Boulogne one sails south to north. On a modern map one does but on ancient ones the position of the British Isles is somewhat flexible! Ptolemy’s map, to which Cassius Dio would have had access, actually places Chichester very much to the southwest of Boulogne rather than due west, whilst Richborough is northwest rather than north. I’ve therefore chosen to interpret the direction as the one in which they would conquer.

  We do not know how the Roman army would have effected a beach landing at this time; Caesar mentions an Eagle-bearer jumping from the ship into the sea in his narrative. I have placed ramps in the bows of the ships because it is possible that almost a hundred years later this innovation may have happened, seeing as the corvus had been in use for a couple of centuries in naval battles. With little or no evidence either way I felt free to include them in order to give the invasion a more immediate feel with echoes of Normandy 1944.

  Cassius Dio also mentions the Britons’ careless camping at the battle of the Medway – if it was indeed at the Medway – not expecting the Romans to force a crossing without a bridge. He then goes on to say that some German auxiliaries, most likely Batavians who were renowned for this feat in full armour, swam the river and took the Britons by surprise. The rest of the battle is vague but it did last two days, and Vespasian and Sabinus distinguished themselves crossing the river and Geta gets a mention for soundly defeating the barbarians after nearly being captured. Well, I put a different spin on that and my apologies to his shade for doing so.

  The Thames was much wider and therefore shallower at the time of the invasion and, we are told, the estuary was fordable close to the mouth of the Medway. Where Aulus Plautius’ legions crossed is a matter for dispute but I have placed it around Blackfriars Bridge just opposite Ludgate Hill.

  We have no firm idea of how the Romans relieved their front ranks; unfortunately the ancient sources never mention it as it was probably deemed too obvious to write about. I have used one theory out of a handful.

  As to what Claudius actually did when he arrived we do not know for sure. Suetonius tells us that he fought no battles; however, Cassius Dio tells us that he took command of the legions waiting near the Thames – but not which side of it. He then goes on to say that Claudius crossed the stream – not the river – and then engaged and defeated the barbarians and took Camulodunum. These conflicting views leave Claudius’ role open to all sorts of interpretations and so I felt that I had a free hand in my fiction.

  It is mentioned that he brought elephants but it seems unlikely that they would have been used in battle and so I attached them to Claudius’ chariot – something not unknown in Rome.

  We know from an inscription in Antioch that Publius Anicius Maximus was camp prefect of the II Augusta during the invasion and was decorated for his services.

  I have kept to the same method of signalling with the cornu for the battlefield, the bucina in camp, the lituus for cavalry, and ignored the tuba because of its modern-day connotations.

  We do not know what Cogidubnus’ position was before he inherited Verica’s throne; there is no evidence to suggest that he was King of Vectis but neither is there any to say he was not. Suetonius tells us that Vespasian subdued Vectis. What relation Cogidubnus was to Verica, if he was one at all, is also not known.

  Vespasian’s son, Titus, was educated with Claudius’ son, who became known as Britannicus; but more of that in future volumes. The arrangement starting when and how I have portrayed it is, of course, my fiction. I am also indebted to John Grigsby for his help with the Celtic language of the time and for his particularly ingenious theory of how Rutupiae could possibly have come from Rhudd yr epis. Any mistakes in Celtic place names and character names are my own. John’s website is www.johngrigsby.co.uk.

  My thanks, as always, to my agent, Ian Drury, at Sheil Land Associates for his help and advice and his explanations of the publishing world. Thank you also to Gaia Banks and Virginia Ascione in the foreign rights department. To Sara O’Keeffe, Toby Mundy, Maddie West, Corinna Zifko and everyone at Corvus/Atlantic, a big thank you for putting so much energy behind the Vespasian series. Thank you to my copy-editor, Tamsin Shelton, for her thorough work in cleaning up the manuscript, especially with reference to my erratic use of capital letters!

  And finally thank you to my editor, Richenda Todd, who has once again managed to coax out all the points that I had in my head but had neglected to share with you, dear reader.

  Vespasian’s story continues in Masters of Rome.