Cornelia- the First Woman of Rome

by Dan Armstrong

  “But I’m only thirty years old, Mother. Should I resume my military career or simply throw up my hands and give in to a life of wealth and leisure?”

  “You’ve asked for my advice, Gaius. And as I said, give what speeches you must prior to the vote, but let it go at that. What you do next with your life is up to you, not me. You have a wife and two children. If you cannot stomach being a senator, bring your family to Misenum. Join my circles. Return to the sanctuary of arts and letters.”

  CHAPTER 97

  I doubt Cornelia ever really thought Gaius would come to live with her. She probably understood that her advice to let it go was also difficult for him to accept. Like Licinia, I think she felt the worst of it was over and that his most likely career was in the military or as a senator. But that was before Gaius sat down with Pomponius, Laetorius, and Fulvius. Papirius Carbo had dropped off the land commission after Gaius’ second term as tribune and was no longer part of Gaius’ steadily shrinking stable of clients. All that remained of his inner circle gathered with him in Fulvius’ home on the Palatine Hill, an elegant villa, decorated with all the most fashionable rugs and ceramics, but also containing Fulvius’ vast array of military plunder—swords, shields, and javelins—collected during his years fighting barbarians in the north.

  Pomponius and Laetorius were tremendously loyal to Gaius but not nearly as passionate about the politics as Fulvius, a man who seemed to become more stubborn and belligerent the more opposition he faced. From what I learned later, Fulvius dominated the meeting. He screamed at Rufus’ affront. He ranted against Opimius and Fannius and any other senator he could think of. “They’re asking for a confrontation, Gaius, and I believe we should give it to them. Rufus will speak about the proposal two days from now on the Capitoline Hill—before the entire Assembly. I say we go there with the strongest show of support we can gather and demand you be given a chance to speak. Rubrius proposed the law, but you made it happen. Junonia is your baby. You must be given a chance to defend it.”

  Gaius agreed to Fulvius’ plan. He did want to speak to the Assembly one more time, and Junonia was as good an issue to address as any. It would be his final tribute to his brother’s work for land reform.

  CHAPTER 98

  Gaius ascended the Capitoline Hill before dawn with his most loyal clients, nearly a hundred men including Fulvius, Laetorius, Pomponius, and ever-faithful Philocrates. The situation was reminiscent of the day Tiberius climbed the hill to seek his second tribuneship. Gaius’ clients acted as bodyguards, surrounding him in three defensive rings. Cornelia, aware of what was happening, made her own contribution to the confrontation by sending another one hundred men she had gathered from the countryside to add to her son’s safety.

  Soon after this small army of unarmed men arrived, a herald and client of Opimius’, Quintus Antullius, who was there to act as the crier for Rufus, saw Gaius standing behind the speaker’s platform in the portico of the temple of Jupiter. Antullius, waiting for Rufus to appear, smugly walked over to the ex-tribune and casually remarked, “Let the bad citizens make way for the good.” It was intended as an insult, and though ignored by Gaius, the comment enraged several of his clients standing nearby. One shouted at the herald, then another shoved him. When Antullius pushed back, ten men were on him, stabbing him over and over again with the bronze styluses used to mark ballots that sat in a box behind the tribunal. Gaius shouted at them to stop, but when the men stood back, Antullius lay dead on the temple porch.

  Word of the incident quickly spread through the assembling crowd. Many of those in attendance hurriedly left. Others crowded in to see what had happened. Concerned that the murder would be linked to him, Gaius tried to explain what had happened and that he had tried to stop it, but he was treated as though he were covered with blood and had ordered the act. Before any further violence could take place, a sudden rain and windstorm blew in out of the west and scattered those who still remained.

  While the men that Cornelia had assembled simply dispersed to their homes outside the city, Fulvius, a man to whom violence was a way of life, led Gaius’ clients down the hill to his home to prepare for the backlash from the murder. A distraught Gaius, however, wandered off accompanied only by Philocrates. He was certain he would be held responsible for Antullius’ death and everything he had fought for the last two years would be lost.

  When Gaius reached the forum on his way to his home, he stopped at the statue of his father that had been erected on the south edge of the forum twenty years earlier. Gaius stood before the statue with tears in his eyes and his head bowed, as though conferring with his father. As Gaius sought solace, one citizen after another stopped and noted the extreme state of sadness that had overtaken the man they had once adored. Many of these citizens had heard about the death of the herald and realized that Gaius’ life was in danger. While a few made derogatory comments, thirty of these men gathered around Gaius to protect him. When Gaius finally left, they followed him to his home and camped out around it, just as citizens had done for his brother the night before his death.

  Gaius entered the house as in a trance. Philocrates came in after him, having said nothing to his master about the murder except to urge him to leave the Capitoline Hill. But now, within the safety of the house, he asked his master how he was.

  Gaius simply shook his head. “Philocrates, I’m at a loss. I was only hoping to make a strong statement for keeping Junonia, and then,” he took a deep breath, “you saw it. Those men overreacted. It’s put me in a terrible spot. I have no idea what to do next.”

  Licinia had not expected Gaius to be back so quickly from the Assembly. She came through the atrium in time to hear his answer to Philocrates. “What’s happened?” she exclaimed rushing up to Gaius.

  “The very worst,” muttered Gaius, moving on past her like a man groping in the dark.

  Licinia turned to Philocrates. “What is it?”

  “The herald was killed in a misunderstanding before Gaius had a chance to speak.”

  “By whom?”

  “Several of Gaius’ clients. Gaius had nothing to do with it, but he’s likely to be held responsible.”

  Licinia paled. She watched Gaius slump onto a bench in the atrium, then ran to him, kneeling at his feet and wrapping her arms around his legs, tears streaming from her eyes. “Gaius, tell me now that you will finally give all of this up.”

  Gaius simply hung his head.

  “Gaius, please talk to me. What can we expect next?”

  Two knocks sounded on the front door. Licinia stood up fearful it was someone coming for Gaius. Philocrates opened the door for Laetorius and Pomponius. Outside the street was filled with the citizens who had followed Gaius to protect him.

  “What’s going on? Who are those people?” demanded Licinia.

  Pomponius, as excited as the crowd outside, ignored her question and hurried to Gaius’ side. “I’ve just come from the Curia. Opimius has called a special convening of the Senate for tomorrow morning. Word is they will accuse you of treason.”

  Laetorius was right behind Pomponius. “There’s a gathering at Fulvius’ home,” he blurted out to his distracted friend. “They’re plotting a strategy for tomorrow!”

  Licinia fell to the floor and sobbed. Catalda came out of the children’s room followed by Gaius and Publius.

  “What’s wrong with Mama?” asked nine-year-old Publius.

  Laetorius spoke up. “Keep the children in their room.”

  But it was too late. The boys dashed down the stairs to their mother. Gaius finally looked up at his friends. “Fulvius may do what he wants. I will turn myself in tomorrow.”

  “No,” pleaded Pomponius, “you will be executed—likely without a trial. You should stay here until the Senate makes a formal accusation, and then we’ll prepare a defense. You know as well as I do, you had nothing to do with what happened.”

  CHAPTER 99

  Shortly after the Senate convened the next morning, just as Opimius finished desc
ribing the previous day’s incident in the worse possible light, the meeting was interrupted by the sounds of a large funeral procession coming across the forum toward the Curia. Opimius led the senators out to the porch as some two hundred mourners singing a traditional Roman dirge circled the comitium carrying Antullius’ body on a bier. The corpse has been stripped of clothing so that the dozens of tiny wounds all over his arms and torso were visible.

  Opimius called out to the mourners from the Curia steps. “Who killed this man?”

  “The traitor Gaius Gracchus,” shouted the mourners, who Opimius had paid to stage the funeral.

  “The man is an enemy of the state,” bellowed Opimius to his fellow senators. “He believes he’s above the law. It’s time to prove that he isn’t.”

  Several of the senators came down the stairs and openly wept for the dead herald as part of the theatrics orchestrated by Opimius. One senator after another expressed his horror at the deed and indignation for the disrespect of Rome’s long tradition of civil discourse.

  A plebeian in a torn and dirty tunic stood on the rostra across the comitium from the Curia and let out a loud laugh like a hyena. “Frauds! You’re all a bunch of frauds! You shed your crocodile tears for this lowly herald and let the body of Tiberius Gracchus be thrown into the river without any funeral at all. Now you plot the murder of his brother. May Jove strike you all down!”

  Many of the people standing nearby cheered the rascal, repeating his words, “You’re all a bunch of frauds.”

  Opimius dispatched five of his lictors to shut the man up, but the pleb jumped off the rostra and disappeared into the forum crowd before the lictors had a chance to circuit the perimeter of the comitium.

  Opimius quickly reconvened the Senate, then laid out a long list of fabricated crimes committed by Gaius Gracchus and Fulvius Flaccus. He paced and gestured before the three hundred senators recounting the laws Gaius had passed and how they had impacted the Senate. “This man and his followers are trying to tear down the Republic. We are in a state of siege. Grant me the authority to see that the state takes no harm.”

  It was a request for martial law, and when the Senate passed the decree, Opimius immediately tried to rally the senators into action. “All of you come with me. Get two of your slaves and prepare them for a confrontation. We must rein these traitors in now!”

  Despite the decree and all of Opimius’ ferocity, several senators spoke out against such a hasty response. Opimius ranted and raved, but after a long, heated discussion, the majority decided to issue summonses to Gaius and Fulvius demanding they appear before the Senate the next morning. At the very least, they deserved a chance to defend their actions.

  Later that evening, after couriers had gone to both Fulvius’ and Gaius’ homes to inform them of the Senate’s order, Fulvius and a small contingent of bodyguards went to Gaius’ house at the edge of Subura. Fulvius was welcomed by the ring of campers protecting the house, then ushered through the peristyle into the atrium. Pomponius greeted Fulvius and took him to the tiny library where Gaius had sunk into depression, refusing to talk to anyone.

  Fulvius strode into the room his chest puffed out, all set for anything, then stopped cold at the sight of his friend’s dark mood. Gaius looked up. “I plan to be at the Senate shortly after dawn tomorrow. I hope you will accompany me.”

  “No, Gaius, absolutely not.” Fulvius came up close to him and put his huge hand on Gauis’ shoulder. “Once we surrender ourselves our fate will be sealed. They’re calling us traitors and Opimius wants only one thing—our lives.”

  Pomponius had already tried to impress this on his friend. Gaius just shook his head. “Do what you must, Fulvius. I’m going to tell them exactly what happened.”

  “No, think about it. They won’t listen. They’re thirsty for blood. Our only chance is to negotiate. I say we do what our ancestors did when the patricians occupied every position in the government.”

  Gaius looked up at his friend, his expression hopelessness.

  “Come now, man. Listen to me,” urged Fulvius. “We can assemble a thousand men if we make half a try. Then we go to the top of the Aventine Hill and fortify the temple of Diana. They will never be able to drive us out. We will force them to listen to us. Neither you nor I did anything wrong yesterday. Some men got out of hand. That can be explained. If we go to the Senate, we are at their mercy. We have no bargaining chip, no way to make our point.”

  Gaius just stared at his friend in wonder. “Do as you must.”

  “No, we must be united in this. We must confront them as one. It’s no different than war. A well-defended position can’t be overcome. It’s the only way we can get a just hearing. That’s all I’m asking.”

  Gaius tilted his head. “And will we arm ourselves like soldiers?”

  “Yes, we have to. I have a house full of weapons. But we’ll only use them if necessary—strictly for defense.”

  Gaius shook his head. “It’s not for me.”

  Fulvius spun around in frustration. “But it is for you! That’s why we’ve all done this. For you. You’re the one with the vision and the passion. We can’t allow them to take you from us. At least give us that, Gaius. Give us the chance to set this straight.”

  To a man like Gaius this argument had impact. What Fulvius was saying was true. Everything that had happened, good or bad, was because of his leadership. He did owe something to those who had remained loyal. Maybe there was still room for bargaining. After a long silence, studied hard by Fulvius, Gaius looked up. “Fine.”

  Fulvius grinned through his beard, then patted his friend on the shoulder to perk him up. “Gather everyone you can, Gaius. Bring them to the temple of Diana at dawn. We’ll hold out until they give us voice.”

  CHAPTER 100

  All of Rome knew Gaius and Fulvius had been summoned to the Curia. Anticipation for the confrontation could not have been greater. The forum began to fill with citizens just after midnight so that they could be there at sunrise. Gaius never went to sleep. He spent most of the night receiving runners who were connecting with Gracchi cells throughout Rome. The message was simple—be at the temple of Diana by dawn.

  Long before dawn Gaius made a sacrifice to the family lares then offered a long prayer to his father and brother. Pomponius and Laetorius joined him for a breakfast of wheat gruel and goat cheese. Everything had been planned the night before. They would amass as many men as possible at the temple of Diana. Each man would arm himself in any way he could, if only a staff or makeshift bludgeon. Although uncertain of the strategy, Gaius owed his loyalty to those who still stood by him. He carried a small dagger.

  Gaius went up to his bedroom just prior to leaving. A vague pre-dawn gray filled the room. Licinia lay in the sheets crying softly. He sat down on the bed beside her and placed his right hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to face his silhouette. He could not see her eyes.

  “I’m going to the Aventine Hill,” he said, drawing his finger lightly over her cheek, feeling the moisture of her tears.

  “Will you be back?”

  “It’s the same as when I went to Numantia eleven years ago. Two people who have been so fortunate to meet have a destiny to fulfill.”

  “Are you talking about you and me or you and your brother?”

  Gaius stared off into the dimly lit room.

  “If you were going off to war, Gaius, if you were going to speak at an assembly of the people, I could accept whatever came of those honorable efforts, but today, you’re ignoring a direct order from the Senate and have prepared for violence. The honor of this is not so clear to me.”

  “Other forces compel me, Licinia. That’s all I can tell you.” His voice contained no emotion or energy. Licinia sat up and embraced him. He hugged her tightly.

  Licinia whispered, “What is this I feel beneath your tunic, Gaius?”

  One of the boys called for Catalda.

  “What you think it is.” He suddenly stood up. “I must be leaving.”

/>   Licinia caught the hem of his tunic in her hand. “Gaius, please.”

  He knelt beside her. They kissed with feeling. Licinia held him until he stood and strode out of the room. Publius grabbed him by the waist before he reached the stairs. “Where are you going, Daddy?”

  Gaius picked up his son, tossed him in the air, then caught him. “To the temple of Diana.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a place of sanctuary.”

  “From whom?”

  Gaius shook his head sadly. “It’s more than I can tell you now.” He deposited the little ball of fire in bed with Licinia, then continued down the stairs where Philocrates was waiting to leave.

  CHAPTER 101

  The fifty or so men camped around Gaius’ house had spent a quiet night and now stood at the ready. They formed a phalanx around Gaius as they hiked across the city in the dark to a path up the east side of the Aventine Hill. As they proceeded, more men joined them, swelling their numbers to several hundred by the time they reached the temple of Diana. Another hundred or more men were already there in the early stages of fortifying the temple with anything they could find.

  The group at Fulvius’ home had caroused through the night. Fulvius had a reputation for heavy drinking, especially prior to battle. He anticipated a fight and had prepared in the way he always did. He overslept and was so hung over he had to be dragged from bed. He staggered up the hill just after daybreak with both of his sons and a contingent of five hundred men, some who had stayed at his home, some who had joined him on the way, and many carrying trophies from Fulvius’ campaigns in Gaul.