Claudius the God (63 page)

See Acts xi. 28 - R.G.

Nero put on his manly-gown, in the year after his adoption by me. I allowed the Senate to vote him the privilege of becoming Consul at the age of twenty, so at sixteen he was Consul-Elect. I awarded him honorary triumphal dress and appointed him Leader of Cadets, as Augustus had appointed his grandsons, Gaius and Lucius. In the Latin holidays, too; when the Consuls and other magistrates were out of the City, I made him City Warden as Augustus had also done with his grandsons, to give them a’ first taste of magistracy. It was customary to bring no important cases before the City Warden, but to wait for the return of the proper magistrates. Nero, however, managed a whole series of complicated cases which would have tested the judgement of the most experienced legal officers in the City, and gave remarkably shrewd decisions. This gained him popular admiration, but it was perfectly clear to me, as soon as I heard about it, that the whole affair had been stage-managed by Seneca. I do not mean that the cases were not genuine, but Seneca had reviewed them carefully before hand and arranged with the lawyers as to just what points they should bring out, in their speeches, and had then coached Nero in, his cross-examination of witnesses and his summing-up and judgement. Britannicus had not yet come of age. I kept him from the society of boys of his own age and rank as much as possible: he only met them under the eye of his tutors. I did not wish him to catch the Imperial infection to which I was purposely subjecting Nero. I let it go about that he, was an epileptic. Public flattery was all, concentrated now on Nero. Agrippinilla was delighted. She thought that I hated Britannicus for his mother’s sake.

There was a big riot about the sale of bread. It was a quite unnecessary riot, though, and according to Narcissus, who loathed Agrippinilla (and found to his surprise that I encouraged him: in this), it was instigated by her. It happened when I was suffering from a chill, and Agrippinilla came to my room and suggested that I should issue an edict to reassure and quiet the populace, She wanted me to say that I was not seriously ill and that, even if my illness took a serious turn and I died, Nero was now capable of conducting public affairs under her guidance. I laughed in her face. ‘You are asking me to sign my own death warrant, my dear? Come on, then, give me the pen. I’ll sign it. When’s the funeral to be?’

‘If you don’t wish to sign it, don’t, she said. ‘I’m not forcing you.’

‘Very well, then, I won’t,’ I said. ‘I’ll inquire into that bread riot and see who really started it.’

She walked angrily out. I called her back. ‘I was only joking. Of course I’ll sign! By the way, has Seneca taught Nero his funeral oration yet? Or not yet? I’d like to hear it first, if none of you mind.’

Vitellius died of a paralytic stroke. A senator who was either drunk or crazy, I can’t say which, had suddenly accused him before the House of aiming at the monarchy. The charge appears to have been directed at Agrippinilla, but naturally no one dared to support it, much as Agrippinilla was, hated, so the accuser was himself outlawed. However, Vitellius took the matter to heart and the stroke followed soon after. I visited him as he lay dying. He was unable to move a finger but talked quite good sense. I asked him the question that I had always meant to, ask: ‘Vitellius, in a better age you would have been one of the most virtuous men alive: how was it, then, that your upright nature acquired a sort of permanent stoop from playing the courtier?’

He said ‘It was inevitable under a monarchy, however benevolent the monarch. The old virtues disappear. Independence and frankness are at a discount. Complacent anticipation of the monarch’s wishes is then the greatest of all virtues. One must either be a good monarch like yourself, or a good courtier like myself either an Emperor or an idiot.’

I said: ‘You mean that people who continue virtuous in an old-fashioned way must inevitably suffer in times like these?’

‘Phaemon’s dog was right.’ That was the last thing he said before he lapsed into a coma from which he never recovered.

I could not be content until I had hunted down the reference in the library. It appears that Phaemon the philosopher had a little dog whom he had trained to go to the butcher every day and bring back a lump of meat in a basket. This virtuous creature, who would never dare to touch a scrap until Phaemon gave it permission, was one day set upon by a pack of mongrels who snatched the basket from its mouth and began to tear the meat to pieces and bolt it greedily down. Phaemon, watching from an upper window saw the dog deliberate for a moment just what to do. It was clearly no use trying to rescue the meat from the other dogs: they would kill it for its pains. So it rushed in among them and itself ate as much of the meat as it could get hold of. In fact, it ate more than any of the other dogs, because it was both braver and cleverer.

The Senate honoured Vitellius with a public funeral and statue in the Market Place. The inscription that is carved on it reads:

LUCIUS VITELLIUS, TWICE CONSUL,
ONCE CENSOR.
HE ALSO GOVERNED SYRIA.
UNSWERVINGLY LOYAL TO HIS EMPEROR

I must tell about the Fucine Lake. I had lost all real interest in it by now, but one day Narcissus, who was in charge of the work, told me that the contractors reported that the channel was dug through the mountain at last: we had only to raise the sluice-gates and let the water rush out, and the whole lake would become dry land. Thirteen years, and 30,000 men constantly at work! ‘We’ll celebrate this, Narcissus,’ I said.

I arranged a sham sea-fight, but on a most magnificent scale. Julius Caesar had first introduced this sort of spectacle at Rome, exactly 100 years before. He dug a basin in Mars Field, which he flooded from the Tiber, and arranged for eight ships, called the Tyrian fleet, to engage eight more, called the Egyptian fleet. About 2,000 fighting men were used, exclusive of rowers. When I was eight years old Augustus gave a similar show in a permanent basin on the other side of the Tiber, measuring 1,200 feet by 1,800, with stone seats around it like an amphitheatre. There were twelve ships a side this time, called Athenians and Persians:. Three thousand men fought in them. My show on the Fucine Lake was going, to dwarf both spectacles. I didn’t care about economy now. I was going to have a really magnificent show for once. ‘Julius’ and ‘Augustus’s fleets had been composed of light craft only, but I gave orders for twenty-four proper war vessels of three banks of oars each to be constructed, and twenty-six smaller vessels; and I cleared the prisons of 1,900 able-bodied criminals to fight in them; under the command of famous professional swordfighters. The, two fleets, each consisting of twenty-five vessels, were to be known, as the Rhodians and the Sicilians. The hills around the lake would make a fine natural amphitheatre; and though it was a very long way from Rome, I was sure that I could draw an audience there of at least 200,000 people. I advised them by an official circular to bring their own food with them in baskets. But 1,900 armed criminals are a dangerous force, to handle. I had to take the whole Guards Division out there and station some of them on shore and. the rest on rafts lashed together across the lake. The line of rafts was a semicircle which made a proper naval basin of the southwestern end of the lake, where it tapered to the point at which the channel had been cut. The whole lake would have been too big: it spread over 200 square miles. The Guards on the rafts had catapults and mangonels ready to sink any vessel that tried to ram the line and escape.

The great occasion finally came; I proclaimed a ten-days public holiday. The weather was fine and the number of spectators was more like 500,000 than 200,000. They came from all over Italy, - and I must say that it was a wonderfully well-behaved and well dressed gathering. To prevent overcrowding, I divided up the lake shore into what I called colonies and put each colony under a magistrate; the magistrates had to make arrangements for communal cooking and sanitation’ and so on. I built a large canvas field-hospital for the wounded survivors of the battle and for accidents on shore. Fifteen babies were born in that hospital and I made them all take the additional name of Fucinus or Fucina.

Everything was in position by ten o’clock on the morning of the fight. The fleets were manned and came rowing up in parallel lines towards the President, namely, myself, who was sitting on a high throne dressed in a suit of golden armour with a purple cloak over it. My throne was at a point where the shore curved out into-the lake’ and gave the widest view. Agrippinilla sat beside me on an other throne, wearing a long mantle of cloth of gold. The two flagships came close up to us. The crew shouted: ‘Greetings, Caesar. We salute you in Death’s shadow.’

I was supposed to nod gravely, but I was feeling in a gay humour that morning. I answered: ‘And the same to you, my friends.’

The rascals pretended to understand this as a general pardon. ‘Long live Caesar,’ they shouted joyfully. I did not at the moment realize what they meant. The combined fleets sailed past me cheering and then the Sicilians formed up on the west and the Rhodians on the east. The signal for battle was given by a mechanical silver Triton that suddenly appeared from the lake-bottom, when I pressed a lever and blew a golden trumpet. That caused huge excitement among the audience. The fleets met, and expectation ran high. And then - what do you think happened then? They simply sailed through each other, cheering me and congratulating each other! I was angry. I jumped down from my throne and rushed along the shore shouting and cursing. ‘What do you think that I got you all here for, you scoundrels, you scum, you rebels, you bastards? To kiss each other and shout loyal shouts? You could have done that just as well in the prison-yard. Why don’t you fight? Afraid, eh? Do you want to be given to the wild beasts instead? Listen, if you don’t fight now, by God, I’ll make the Guards put up a show. I’ll make them sink every one of your ships with their siege-engines and kill every man Jack who swims ashore.’

As I have told you, my legs have always been weak, and one is shorter than the other, and I am not accustomed to use them much, and I am old and’ rather stout now, and besides all this I was wearing an extremely heavy corselet, and the ground was uneven, so you can imagine what sort of a figure I cut - stumbling top-heavily along, with frequent falls, shouting at the top of my, not very melodious voice, red and stuttering with anger! However, I succeeded in making them fight, and the spectators cheered me with, ‘Well done, Caesar! Well run, Caesar!’

I recovered my good humour and joined in the laugh against myself. You should have seen the murderous look on Agrippinilla’s face. ‘You boor,’ she muttered as I climbed back on my throne. ‘You idiotic boor. Have you no dignity? How do you expect the people to respect you?’

I answered politely: ‘Why, of course, as your husband, my dear, and as Nero’s father-in-law.’

The fleets met. I shall not describe the battle in. much detail, but both sides fought splendidly. The Sicilians rammed and sank nine of the big Rhodian vessels, losing three of their own, and then cornered the remainder close to where we were sitting and boarded them one by one. The Rhodians repelled them time and time again, and the decks were slippery with blood, but finally they were beaten and by three o’clock the Sicilian flag was run up on the last vessel. My field hospital was full. Nearly 5,000 wounded were carried ashore. I pardoned the remainder, except the survivors of three big Rhodian vessels who had not put up a proper fight before being rammed, and six of the Sicilian lighter craft who had consistently avoided combat. Three thousand men had been killed or drowned. When I was a lad I couldn’t bear the sight of bloodshed. I don’t mind it at all now: I get so interested in the fighting.

Before letting the water out of the lake I thought that I had better satisfy myself that the channel was deep, enough to carry it off. I sent out someone to take careful soundings in the middle of the lake. He reported that the channel would have to be dug at least a yard deeper if we were not to be left with a lake a quarter of its present size! So the whole spectacle had been wasted. Agrippinilla blamed Narcissus and accused him of fraud. Narcissus blamed the engineers who, he said, must have been bribed by the contractors to send in a false report as to the depth of the lake, and protested that Agrippinilla was being most unjust to him.

I laughed. It didn’t matter. We had witnessed a most enjoyable show and the channel could be dug to the proper’ depth within a few months. Nobody was to blame, I said probably there had been a natural subsidence of the lake-bottom. So we all went home again and in four months’ time back we came. On this occasion I did not have enough criminals available for a big sea-battle, and did not wish to repeat the spectacle on a smaller scale, so I had another idea. I built a long, wide pontoon-bridge across the end of the lake and arranged for two forces of two battalions apiece, called Etruscans and Samnians, appropriately dressed and armed, to fight on it. They marched towards each other along the bridge, to the accompaniment of martial music, and engaged in the centre, where the bridge widened out to 100 yards or so, and there fought a vigorous battle. The Samnians twice took possession of this battlefield, but Etruscan counter-attacks forced them back and eventually the Samnians were on the run, losing heavily, some run through by bronze-headed Etruscan’ lances or chopped down by two-headed Etruscan battle-axes, some thrown off the bridge into the water. My orders were that no combatant must be permitted to swim ashore. If he was thrown into the water he must either drown or climb back on the bridge. The Etruscans were victorious and erected a trophy. I gave all the victors their freedom, and a few of the Samnians, too, who had fought particularly well.

Then at last the moment came for the water to be let out of the lake. A huge wooden dining-hall had been erected close to the sluice-gates and the tables-were spread with a magnificent luncheon for me and the Senate, and the families of senators, and a number of leading knights and their families, and all senior Guards officers. We would dine to the pleasant sound of rushing water. ‘You’re sure that the channel is deep enough now?’ I asked Narcissus.