1. First Man in Rome Page 34

  "It's true that Laenas could have resisted them. But for what? It seemed more sensible to him to save his pitiful remnant of our army, for our future use if possible. So that's what he did. He ran up the white flag and walked out himself to meet their chieftains, with his spear reversed and his scabbards empty. And they spared him, and they spared all of our surviving men. Then to show us what a greedy lot they thought we were, they even left us the baggage train! All they took from it were their own treasures which Cassius had looted." He drew a breath. "However, they did make Popillius Laenas and the rest pass under the yoke. After which they escorted them as far as Tolosa, and made sure they went on to Narbo." "We've passed under the yoke too often of late years," said Marius, clenching his fists. "Well, that is the chief reason for the general fury of indignation in Rome against Popillius Laenas, certainly," said Sulla. "He'll face treason charges, but from what he was saying to me, I doubt he'll stay to be tried. I think he plans to get together what portable valuables he has, and go into a voluntary exile at once." "It's the sensible move, at least he'll salvage something out of his ruin that way. If he waits to be tried, the State will confiscate the lot." Marius thumped the map. "But the fate of Lucius Cassius is not going to be our fate, Lucius Cornelius! By fair means or foul, we're going to rub Jugurtha's face in the mud and then we're going home to demand a mandate from the People to fight the Germans!" "Now that, Gaius Marius, is something I'll drink to!" said Sulla, lifting his beaker.

  The expedition against Capsa was successful beyond all expectations, but as everyone admitted only thanks to Marius's brilliant management of the campaign. His legate Aulus Manlius, whose cavalry Marius didn't quite trust, because among its ranks were some Numidians claiming they were Rome's and Gauda's men, tricked his cavalry into thinking that Marius was on a foraging expedition. So what news Jugurtha got was completely misleading. Thus when Marius appeared with his army before Capsa, the King thought him still a hundred miles away; no one had reported to Jugurtha that the Romans had stocked up on water and grain in order to cross the arid wastelands between the Bagradas River and Capsa. When the ostensibly impregnable fortress found itself looking down on a sea of Roman helmets, its inhabitants surrendered it without a fight. But once again Jugurtha managed to escape. Time to teach Numidia and especially the Gaetuli a lesson, decided Gaius Marius. So in spite of the fact that Capsa had offered him no resistance, he gave his soldiers permission to loot it, rape it, and burn it; every adult, male and female, was put to the sword. Its treasures, and Jugurtha's huge hoard of money, were loaded into wagons; Marius then brought his army safely out of Numidia into winter quarters near Utica, well before the rains began. His Head Count troops had earned their rest. And it gave him intense pleasure to write a dulcet letter to the Senate (to be read out by Gaius Julius Caesar) lauding the spirit, courage, and morale of his Head Count army; nor could he resist adding that after the appallingly bad generalship of Lucius Cassius Longinus, his senior colleague in the consulship, it was certain Rome would need more armies made up of the capite censi. Said Publius Rutilius Rufus in a letter to Gaius Marius toward the end of the year:

  Oh, so many red faces! Your father-in-law roared your message out in impressively stentorian tones, so that even those who covered their ears were still obliged to listen. Metellus Piggle-wiggle also known as Metellus Numidicus these days looked murderous. As well he might his old army dead along the Garumna, and your raggle-taggle crew heroes of the living kind. "There is no justice!" he was heard to say afterward, whereupon I turned round and said, very sweetly, "That is true, Quintus Caecilius. For if justice did exist, you wouldn't be calling yourself Numidicus!" He was not amused, but Scaurus fell about laughing, of course. Say what you will about Scaurus, he has the keenest sense of humor, not to mention sense of the ridiculous, of any man I know. Since this is not something I can say of any of his cronies, I sometimes wonder if he doesn't choose his cronies so he can laugh at their posturing in secret. What amazes me, Gaius Marius, is the strength of your fortunate star. I know you weren't worried, but I can tell you now that I didn't think you stood a chance of having your command in Africa prorogued for next year. Then what happens? Lucius Cassius gets himself killed, along with Rome's biggest and most experienced army, leaving the Senate and its controlling faction helpless to oppose you. Your tribune of the plebs, Mancinus, went to the Assembly of the Plebs and procured you a plebiscite extending your governorship of Africa Province without any trouble at all. The Senate lay silent, it being too apparent, even to them, that you are going to be needed. For Rome is a very uneasy place these days. The threat of the Germans hangs over it like a pall of doom, and there are many who say no man is going to arise capable of averting that doom. Where are the Scipio Africanuses, the Aemilius Paulluses, the Scipio Aemilianuses? they ask. But you have a loyal band of devoted followers, Gaius Marius, and since the death of Cassius they are saying, louder and louder, that you are that man who will arise and turn back the German tide. Among them is the accused legate from Burdigala, Gaius Popillius Laenas. Since you are a backward Italian hayseed with no Greek, I shall tell you a little story. Once upon a time, there was a very bad and nasty King of Syria named Antiochus. Now because he was not the first King of Syria to be named Antiochus, nor the greatest (his father claimed the distinction of calling himself Antiochus the Great), he had a number after his name. He was Antiochus IV, the fourth King Antiochus of Syria. Even though Syria was a rich kingdom, King Antiochus IV lusted after the neighboring kingdom of Egypt, where his cousins Ptolemy Philometor, Ptolemy Euergetes Gross Belly, and Cleopatra (being the second Cleopatra, she had a number after her name also, and was known as Cleopatra II) ruled together. I wish I could say they ruled in happy harmony, but they did not. Brothers and sister, husband and wife (yes, in Oriental kingdoms incest is quite permissible), they had been fighting between themselves for years, and had almost succeeded in ruining the fair and fertile land of the great river Nilus. So when King Antiochus IV of Syria decided to conquer Egypt, he thought he would have a very easy time of it thanks to the squabbles of his cousins the two Ptolemies and Cleopatra II. But, alas, the minute he turned his back on Syria, a few unpleasantly seditious incidents compelled him to turn around and go home again to chop off a few heads, dismember a few bodies, pull a few teeth, and probably tear out someone's womb. And it was four years before sufficient heads, arms, legs, teeth, and wombs were plucked from their owners, and King Antiochus IV could start out a second time to conquer Egypt. This time, Syria in his absence remained very quiet and obedient, so King Antiochus IV invaded Egypt, captured Pelusium, marched down the Delta to Memphis, captured that, and began to march up the other side of the Delta toward Alexandria. Having ruined the country and the army, the brothers Ptolemy and their sister-wife, Cleopatra II, had no choice but to appeal to Rome for help against King Antiochus IV, Rome being the best and greatest of all nations, and everyone's hero. To the rescue of Egypt, the Senate and People of Rome (being in better accord in those days than we would believe possible now or so the storybooks say) sent their noble brave consular Gaius Popillius Laenas. Now any other country would have given its hero a whole army, but the Senate and People of Rome gave Gaius Popillius Laenas only twelve lictors and two clerks. However, because it was a foreign mission, the lictors were allowed to wear the red tunics and put the axes in their bundles of rods, so Gaius Popillius Laenas was not quite unprotected. Off they sailed in a little ship, and came to Alexandria just as King Antiochus IV was marching up the Canopic arm of the Nilus toward the great city wherein cowered the Egyptians. Clad in his purple-bordered toga and preceded by his twelve crimson-clad lictors, all bearing the axes in their bundles of rods, Gaius Popillius Laenas walked out of Alexandria through the Sun Gate, and kept on walking east. Now he was not a young man, so as he went he leaned upon a tall staff, his pace as placid as his face. Since only the brave and heroic and noble Romans built decent roads, he was soon walking along through thick dust. But was Gaius Popillius Laenas de
terred? No! He just kept on walking, until near the huge hippodrome in which the Alexandrians liked to watch the horse races, he ran into a wall of Syrian soldiers, and had to stop. King Antiochus IV of Syria came forward, and went to meet Gaius Popillius Laenas. "Rome has no business in Egypt!" the King said, frowning awfully and direfully. "Syria has no business in Egypt either," said Gaius Popillius Laenas, smiling sweetly and serenely. "Go back to Rome," said the King. "Go back to Syria," said Gaius Popillius Laenas. But neither of them moved a single inch. "You are offending the Senate and People of Rome," said Gaius Popillius Laenas after a while of staring into the King's fierce face. "I have been ordered to make you return to Syria." The King laughed and laughed and laughed. "And how are you going to make me go home?" he asked. "Where is your army?" "I have no need of an army, King Antiochus IV," said Gaius Popillius Laenas. "Everything that Rome is, has been, and will be, is standing before you here and now. I am Rome, no less than Rome's largest army. And in the name of Rome, I say to you a further time, go home!" "No," said King Antiochus IV. So Gaius Popillius Laenas stepped forward, and moving sedately, he used the end of his staff to trace a circle in the dust all the way around the person of King Antiochus IV, who found himself standing inside Gaius Popillius Laenas's circle. "Before you step out of this circle, King Antiochus IV, I advise you to think again," said Gaius Popillius Laenas. "And when you do step out of it why, be facing east, and go home to Syria." The King said nothing. The King did not stir. Gaius Popillius Laenas said nothing. Gaius Popillius Laenas did not stir. Since Gaius Popillius Laenas was a Roman and did not need to hide his face, his sweet and serene countenance was on full display. But King Antiochus IV hid his face behind a curled and wired wig-beard, and even then could not conceal its thunder. Time went on. And then, still inside the circle, the mighty King of Syria turned on his heel to face east, and stepped out of the circle in an easterly direction, and marched back to Syria with all his soldiers. Now on his way to Egypt, King Antiochus IV had invaded and conquered the isle of Cyprus, which belonged to Egypt. Egypt needed Cyprus, because Cyprus gave it timber for ships and buildings, and grain, and copper. So after he left the cheering Egyptians in Alexandria, Gaius Popillius Laenas sailed to Cyprus, where he found a Syrian army of occupation. "Go home," he said to it. And home it went. Gaius Popillius Laenas went home himself to Rome, where he said, very sweetly and serenely and simply, that he had sent King Antiochus IV home to Syria, and saved Egypt and Cyprus from a cruel fate. I wish I could end my little story by assuring you that the Ptolemies and their sister, Cleopatra II, lived and ruled happily ever after, but they didn't. They just went on fighting among themselves, and murdering a few close relatives, and ruining the country. What in the name of all the gods, I can hear you asking, am I telling children's stories for? Simple, my dear Gaius Marius. How many times at your mother's knee did you get told the story of Gaius Popillius Laenas and the circle around the King of Syria's feet? Well, maybe in Arpinum mothers don't tell that one. But in Rome, it's standard issue. From highest to lowest, every Roman child gets told the story of Gaius Popillius Laenas and the circle around the feet of the King of Syria. So how, I ask you, could the great-grandson of the hero of Alexandria proceed into exile without risking his all by standing trial? To proceed into exile voluntarily is to admit guilt and I for one consider that our Gaius Popillius Laenas did the sensible thing at Burdigala. The upshot of it was that our Popillius Laenas remained and stood trial. The tribune of the plebs Gaius Coelius Caldus (acting on behalf of a senatorial clique which shall be nameless but you are allowed to guess a clique determined to transfer the blame for Burdigala elsewhere than on Lucius Cassius's shoulders, naturally) vowed that he would see Laenas condemned. However, since the only special treason court we have is limited to those dealing with Jugurtha, the trial had to take place in the Centuriate Assembly. Glaringly public, what with each Century's spokesman shouting out his Century's verdict for all the world to hear. "CONDEMNO!" "ABSOLVO!" Who, after hearing the story of Gaius Popillius Laenas and the circle around the King of Syria's feet at his mother's knee, would dare to shout, "CONDEMNO!"? But did that stop Caldus? Certainly not. He introduced a bill in the Plebeian Assembly which extended the secret ballot of elections to cover treason trials as well. That way, the Centuries called upon to vote could be sure that each man's opinion wasn't known. The bill passed; all seemed in good train. And as the month of December started, Gaius Popillius Laenas was tried in the Centuriate Assembly on a charge of treason. The ballot was a secret one, just as Caldus wanted. But all a few of us did was slip among the gargantuan jury, and whisper, "Once upon a time there was a noble, brave consular named Gaius Popillius Laenas ... " and that was the end of it. When they counted the votes, they all said, "ABSOLVO." So, you might say, if justice was done, it was entirely thanks to the nursery.