Part 24
Piso had travelled on his homeward journey as far as Cos, when the news of the death of Germanicus reached him. He made thanksgiving offerings to the gods, and Plancina, who had recently lost a sister, threw off her mourning. Consultations were held as to the best course to pursue. Marcus Piso, the younger of his two sons, urged his father to return to Rome. So far he had done nothing unpardonable, but an attempt to resume the government of the province meant nothing less than civil war. Other and less prudent friends advised Piso not to recognize the appointment of Sentius, and to rely on his popularity with the legions. Tacitus puts into the mouth of these advisers the following astounding statement, which he probably found in those memoirs of Agrippina which are not evidence: “You have the complicity of Livia, the favour of Cæsar though hidden, and none mourn more loudly for Germanicus than those who are best pleased at his death.”
Piso and Plancina proved to have miscalculated the affection of the legions, and an attempt to recover Syria by force was defeated by Sentius, who gave the unhappy candidate for power ships and a safe conduct to Rome.
Agrippina meanwhile had traversed the seas and arrived at Brundisium with the vase containing her husband’s ashes early in the year 20 A.D. The illness and death of Germanicus had excited much feeling in the city and Italy, though we are not bound to believe in the dark suggestions of the historian that the populace had assumed the complicity of Tiberius in his nephew’s death. The widow made the best of her affliction, and contrived to give the procession to the Mausoleum of Augustus, in which her husband’s ashes were deposited, the aspect of a public demonstration in favour of the Julian race. Neither Tiberius himself, nor Livia, nor even the mother of Germanicus, were present at this ceremony. Doubtless they had sufficient reasons, but their absence unfortunately favoured the credulity of those who at a later time listened to the lamentations of Agrippina, and her passionate assertions that her husband had been done to death with the connivance of his own kith and kin.
Piso returned slowly to Rome. He sent his son ahead with letters to Tiberius, in which he represented himself as the aggrieved party, and accused Germanicus of debauchery and arrogance; he sought on his way an interview with Drusus, who had returned to Illyria after his brother’s funeral. Drusus received him coldly, and dismissed him with words so politic that they were thought to have been suggested by a cooler head. The day after he arrived in Rome, Fulcinius Trio, the prosecutor of Scribonius Libo, took the first formal steps in a process against him.
The story of this famous trial is so narrated by Tacitus as to convey the impression that there was a serious miscarriage of justice, and that the oppressors of Germanicus were protected by the influence of Livia and Tiberius; but, as usual, the narrative, wherever it depends upon accessible documentary evidence, does not support such a view of the case.
Accusers and accused alike pressed Tiberius to hear the case himself, knowing “that he was impervious to the influence of rumour,” and fearing the excitability of a large court. Tiberius, after hearing the evidence, referred the whole case to the Senate. Five of the most respected men in Rome refused to act as counsel for the defence. Among the three who did eventually defend Piso was Marcus Lepidus, whom we have already seen in possession of the full confidence of the Emperor. On the day of the trial Tiberius opened the proceedings in the Senate; he said that Piso had been a trusted officer and friend of Augustus, that he had himself assigned him as an assistant to Germanicus in the administration of the East with the authority of the Senate. It was the duty of the court to decide without prejudice whether he had exasperated the young man by insubordination and opposition and rejoiced over his death, or had killed him with malice and aforethought, “for if the subordinate officer exceeded the limits of his office, if he refused to pay proper respect to his superior, and rejoiced over his death, and my sorrow, I shall hate him, and shall exclude him from my house, and punish his enmity as a private matter, not with the power I hold as Princeps. But if it is discovered that a crime in bringing about the death of any man requires punishment, then do you confer upon the children of Germanicus and us his relatives our proper consolation. And at the same time you must carefully consider this point, whether Piso handled the armies in an insubordinate and seditious fashion, whether he tampered disloyally with the affections of the soldiers, whether he attempted to recover the province by force of arms, or have the accusers exaggerated these charges? I may say that I have good reason to be annoyed with their exercise of partisanship. For was it proper to strip the body, to expose it to the eager scrutiny of the eyes of the vulgar, and even to allow statements to spread among foreigners that he had been poisoned, if this was still uncertain and a subject of inquiry? I mourn for the loss of my son, and always shall mourn, but I do not prevent the accused from advancing every fact by which his innocence may be supported, or his guilt extenuated if there was any provocation on the part of Germanicus; and I implore you not to take accusations for proved facts, because the case touches me nearly personally. I beg those who have been led by the ties of kindred or faithful friendship to act as counsel for the defendant, to help him in his danger as far as their eloquence and diligence allows; and I invite the prosecution to similar efforts and similar firmness. In one point only we raise Germanicus above the law, viz., in trying the case in the Senate House rather than in the forum, before the Senate and not before a jury. Let everything else be handled with a like moderation. I would have no one pay regard to the tears of Drusus and my own sorrow, nor to any fictitious charges made against us.”
Such a speech was doubtless disappointing to Agrippina, who had already in her own mind condemned Piso and the amazonian Plancina without benefit of clergy; she knew Germanicus had been poisoned, and bewitched; she knew how it had all been done by means of a celebrated poisoner named Martina, who had been fetched from the East to give evidence, and had died mysteriously at Brundisium on the way. Had not the poison been found after her death tied up in her hair? What further evidence was wanting? And why did the woman die so conveniently for the purposes of those who wished to shield the enemies of Germanicus? The poor lady had troubles enough, left a widow with a family of six young children, marked out for the enmity of a malignant and all powerful grandmother-in-law, but her inclination to regard herself as the victim of persistent ill-usage is not evidence; and though her contemporaries would have had no difficulty in believing in the effects of witchcraft, the case against Piso is rendered weak to us by the introduction of this element; and the more so that the prosecution was not able to prove the use of poison, or even to suggest a favourable opportunity for its administration.
As the case proceeded it became quite clear that the charge of poisoning could not be sustained, but that Piso had been guilty of serious political offences. Meanwhile there was considerable agitation among the people, to whom the sensational side of the trial alone appealed, and who threatened violence if the murderer of Germanicus escaped by the votes of the Senate. This at least we are told by Tacitus, though here again it is more than probable that the public excitement existed chiefly in the imagination of Agrippina, who always saw herself playing the part of injured heroine to a sympathetic audience of the Roman people. Riots were not dreaded at Rome since the police of the city had been organized and the Prætorian guards placed in barracks.
As the case became exclusively political, Plancina naturally dropped out of it; “machinations of Livia,” shrieked Agrippina, and Tacitus has repeated the shriek.
The case had an abrupt and tragic termination. Piso, seeing that the hostile evidence steadily accumulated, and that Tiberius preserved an absolutely impartial and judicial attitude, killed himself, leaving a letter to Tiberius, from which the following extract has been preserved: “Crushed by a conspiracy of my private enemies, and the hatefulness of a false accusation, inasmuch as no opportunity is left for the truth and the establishment of my innocence, I call heaven to witness, Cæsar, that I have lived loyally to you, and dutifully to your mother; and I implore you to take charge of my children, of whom Gnæus Piso was certainly not concerned in my fortunes whatever may have been their character, for he spent the whole time at Rome, and Marcus Piso dissuaded me from returning to Syria. And I wish that I had rather given way to the counsels of my young son than he to those of his aged father. I beg the more earnestly that his innocence may not pay the penalty of my perversity. I beg for the safety of my unhappy son in the name of forty-five years of loyal duty, of a consulship shared with yourself, of the confidence placed in me by Augustus, of the friendship with yourself, and as a last request.” He made no mention of his wife in this dying petition. Tiberius exempted Marcus Piso from any complicity in the charges brought against his father, and also spoke on behalf of Plancina. A two days’ inquiry was held into her conduct, but to the disgust of Agrippina she was acquitted. Her escape was attributed to the influence of Livia.
The Senate passed severe sentences upon the sons of Piso, which Tiberius, as usual, considerably modified. Honours and rewards were bestowed on the accusers, but Tiberius, in promising Fulcinius Trio office later on, significantly hinted that he was in danger of spoiling his eloquence by excessive violence. It had been in the power of Tiberius to confiscate the property of Piso, but he bestowed it upon his son Marcus. Tacitus comments in characteristic fashion--“Superior to the temptation of money, as I have often recorded, and the more readily appeased at that time through an uneasy conscience about the acquittal of Plancina.”
There certainly does not seem to have been any miscarriage of justice, for even if Piso was sincere in his protestations of innocence, and really was innocent of the technical offence of waging civil war, his case was never concluded, and he was never condemned. It pleased Agrippina and her friends, and it pleased the sensation mongers of the capital, to see in the case not a political trial, but a demand for vengeance on the murderers of Germanicus. In this demand they were disappointed, for Plancina, the supposed culprit, escaped altogether, Piso died uncondemned by his own hand, and whatsoever punishment fell upon his two sons was inflicted on them as the sons of a man who had been disloyal to the State, not as the sons of the murderer of Germanicus. It was therefore superfluous on the part of two Senators to propose that altars should be erected to Vengeance, and of another that thanks should be returned to certain members of the Imperial family because Germanicus had been avenged.
There is, in fact, absolutely no evidence that Germanicus was murdered, while there is abundant evidence that the relations between him and Piso, both personal and political, were exceedingly unsatisfactory, and that Piso was so injudicious as to endeavour to set aside his authority. Piso was by many years the older man of the two, he had had long experience of public affairs, had enjoyed the confidence of Augustus, and acquiesced very unwillingly in the arrangements which put Germanicus, a much younger man, over his head. It is quite possible that he had private instructions from Tiberius to give Germanicus the benefit of his experience in friendly fashion, and that he interpreted these instructions wrongly, believing them to amount to a declaration of his own independence of Germanicus, and he would be the more ready to believe this because he was touchy on the subject of his own dignity; but that he actually carried authority to thwart and annoy Germanicus is as improbable as that he had instructions to poison him. Tiberius was guilty of a mistake in not anticipating the friction that would necessarily arise between an older man and a younger man when the former was placed in subordination to somewhat indefinite powers wielded by the latter. If the two men had been left to settle their differences alone, there would probably have been little trouble, for Germanicus began with courtesy and forbearance, but the ladies insisted on taking an active part in the quarrel. Agrippina saw Livia written large all over Plancina, with whom she had doubtless enjoyed several preliminary skirmishes at Rome; and Plancina met her on her own field and fought her with her own weapons, for, reprehensible though Plancina’s military performances appeared in the eyes of a pattern Roman matron, Agrippina had herself set the fashion in Germany. The atmosphere of the East was a particularly unwholesome one for two ladies thus mutually breathing out threatenings and slaughters, and listening to tales depreciatory of one another. The East swarmed with sorcerers and necromancers, and supple intriguers of all kinds used to the internecine feuds of the ladies who lived in the palaces of their princes.
The most unfortunate result of the death of Germanicus was that it left Agrippina an embittered and vindictive woman. Even her husband had occasionally deprecated the violence of her temper. Time did nothing to cure her grievances, indeed the legend of her many sorrows seemed to grow steadily as the events receded into the distance, and she handed her quarrel on to her children with its vitality undiminished.
One possible solution of the part played by Piso, and of the difficulty of reconciling it with his last protestation of innocence, is that Plancina was actually in the confidence of Livia, from whom she held such a commission as Livia could give her to make arrangements desired by her patroness. The Oriental princes had learned to rely on secret influence rather than on open negotiations with Tiberius and the Senate; the stern impartiality of the Emperor drove them to subterranean manœuvres, and Livia was by no means disinclined to let it be understood that her influence was paramount. Thus while Piso as Governor of Syria was the properly constituted representative of Tiberius, his wife was the accredited plenipotentiary of the power behind the throne. The charges against Plancina were really charges against Livia, and the case which was hushed up was the case which would have exposed the unauthorized political intrigues of the Empress Dowager. Tiberius could either allow his mother’s interference with State affairs to be a subject of public inquiry, or he could allow Plancina to be tried on the frivolous charge of poisoning with the certainty that she would escape conviction. He preferred the less heroic course, with the result that both he and his mother were credited with having been concerned in a criminal conspiracy against a near relative.
The tradition repeated by Tacitus, that Piso was in possession of documents which would have established his innocence by demonstrating the complicity of Tiberius and Livia, and that he refrained from producing them on being assured of his safety by Sejanus, is not incompatible with this view of the case. Tiberius would certainly not have been involved, but instructions given by Livia to Plancina may very well have existed, and have led to those reversals of the policy of Germanicus which produced the ultimate quarrel. On this assumption the suicide of Piso becomes intelligible, he could not defend his grave political misconduct without exposing the still graver misconduct of the Empress Dowager, and when he saw that no other means of escape was open to him, he took a course which, to the Romans, did not seem to be devoid of heroism. Tiberius may have been weak in not dismissing his mother to an island, but he was certainly not responsible for the death of Piso, or concerned in a plot to poison Germanicus.
XVI
Tiberius and the Senate
Drusus, the son of Tiberius, died in A.D. 23, under circumstances which it will be more convenient to consider at a later period. From this event Tacitus dates the perversion of Tiberius, forgetting that he has already ascribed to him every unamiable quality except avarice. After enumerating the various legions, and recording their distribution, Tacitus says: “I hope I am not wrong in believing that it is relevant to review the other departments of State as well, to say how they were managed up to that time, since this year marked the beginning of a change for the worse in the Emperor’s administration. Now first, public business and the most important concerns of private men were dealt with before the Senate, and the chief men were allowed to make speeches, and he checked them himself, where they slipped into flattery; and he used to confer office by taking into consideration nobility of descent, brilliance in the field, distinguished service at home, so that it was agreed that there were no men with higher claims. Consuls and Prætors enjoyed their proper dignity, the lesser magistrates also were in the full exercise of their powers, and the laws, with the exception of the “Lex Majestatis,” were well administered. Moreover, the corn supply and tribute, and the rest of the public revenues, were managed by associations of Roman knights. Cæsar entrusted the management of his own affairs to the most distinguished men, to some who were unknown, on hearing of their reputation; and when once he had adopted a man he retained him indefinitely, for most of his officers grew old in the same departments. The commonalty certainly suffered from a dear market, but the Prince was not responsible for that; indeed, he met the failure of crops, or the difficulties of navigation, as far as expense and care could help him. And he took measures that the Provinces should not be disturbed by fresh burdens, and that they should be able to endure the old ones exempt from the avarice or cruelty of officials. There was no such thing as personal outrages or confiscations of property. The estates of Cæsar were few in Italy, his establishments of slaves were modest, his household confined to a few freedmen; and if ever he was at variance with a private person, he resorted to the ordinary processes of law, the ordinary courts. All this he kept up until things were changed by the death of Drusus, not indeed graciously, but with a repellent manner, so that he was generally an object of terror.”
These words, except for the last sentence, differ but little from those employed by Paterculus in enumerating the blessings enjoyed by the Roman people under the sway of Tiberius, though Paterculus does not limit the good administration of the Emperor to the period which ended with the death of Drusus.
It is indeed difficult, when we read the record of the actual transactions of the Senate, to form any other opinion than that advanced by Tacitus in the foregoing summary; even in the case of the “Lex Majestatis” it is the Senate, not Tiberius, who show a tendency to abuse the powers which it conferred, and the rare occasions on which the Emperor himself allows an accusation under this law to be pressed are those on which the strictest republican virtue would have demanded its application, viz., when the misconduct of a provincial governor had impaired the dignity of the State. It is true that this extension of the operation of the “Lex Majestatis” had not been familiar to the Republic, and that the provincials had been held to be protected sufficiently by the laws against extortion, but it might reasonably be held that a Roman magistrate disgraced his country no less by maladministration in the Provinces than by cowardice in the field, or a disgraceful treaty. In fact, this probably was the real grievance which caused the Senatorial Annalists, whose diaries were read by Tacitus, to fill their memoirs with bitter animadversions on the abuse of the “Lex Majestatis,” and the professional advocates who were a terror to delinquent Senators. Incapable or corrupt governors, who might have escaped punishment on some technical plea, if they had been accused formally of extortion, were now confronted with a fuller examination into their conduct under the vaguer charge of having impaired the dignity of the State. Tiberius constituted himself the guardian of the dignity of the State; it was his duty to do so. In upholding the purity of the administration, he was upholding the Empire, but he was also declaring an emphatic negative to the theory that the Roman Senate was at liberty to deal as it pleased with its Provinces. The restoration of the Senate, begun in some degree by Augustus and continued by Tiberius, was attended by this inconvenience, that it revived the pretensions of the survivors of the Oligarchy, and though the majority of the Senate were distinguished rather by an inclination to hand over all their responsibilities to the Emperor than by an uncompromising attitude towards his government, there were a minority who were disgusted because fuller advantage was not taken of the opportunities afforded, and because the liberal policy of the Emperor brought them little nearer to the cherished abuses of the old oligarchical government.
When we reflect that the first six books of the _Annals of Tacitus_ cover a period of twenty-three years, and that he had access to the Senatorial archives no less than to private memoirs, we are astonished at the meagreness of his information. If we remove from these books all that refers to the campaigns in Germany, Thrace, and Africa, all that is concerned with the death of Germanicus, all that has to do with the personal history of the Imperial family, singularly little remains to tell us how the Senate administered the Provinces which had been left to its care, and the two great questions in which statesmen are profoundly interested, the questions of Revenue and Defence, are hardly touched upon.
For this there are two reasons, apart from the fact that Tacitus was an incompetent historian; one is that Tacitus avowedly interested himself only in recording events which seemed to him striking illustrations of good or bad behaviour, history to him being merely a primer of morals and a collection of examples; the other is that very little business actually was transacted before the Senate.