Fortunately, developments elsewhere offered a temporary solution to the problems Germanicus raised. I had been compelled to arraign the aged King of Cappadocia, Archelaus, before the Senate, and it had been decided to incorporate his kingdom within the empire, so that it came under direct rule. This did not displease me, for Archelaus had insulted me during my residence at Rhodes, when he felt himself safe to do so, on account of what he conceived to be my own fall from favour. The supervision of the transformation of Cappadocia from one status to another was important work, and I judged that Germanicus would acquit himself excellently in the role required.
I had already made this decision when news arrived that King Vonones of Armenia had been expelled by a faction that favoured Parthia to Rome. Since the strategic importance of Armenia is so great, this was a situation fraught with peril. I therefore resolved that Germanicus should assume supreme authority over the Eastern provinces of the empire, and proposed to ask the Senate to grant him maius imperium. I could not have expressed my confidence in his abilities more fully. Even so, Agrippina found cause for complaint, though Germanicus seemed pleased enough. She, however, let it be known that he was being denied glory in Germany, and persisted in describing the arduous task to which I had called him as "a mere police action".
She also criticised my decision at the same time to appoint Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso Governor of Syria. Yet this seemed to me prudent. Piso was a man I had trusted, of vast experience and, hitherto, distinguished for common sense and virtue. Syria was a responsible position, since the Governor there commanded four legions. It was necessary, given the instability in the East, that the Governorship be held by a man capable of independent action. Agrippina let it be known that I had appointed Piso to act as my "spy" – she actually used that word. In fact, I had done no more than suggest that he might find it necessary to act as a brake on Germanicus' noble impetuosity. I was afraid that the young man's lust for military glory might embroil us in a full-scale war with Parthia…
So, before he set out, I said to Piso, "Your task, my friend, is to hold yourself ready to bridle the colt." That was the limit of my instructions.
Germanicus' progress towards Armenia resembled that of a candidate for office, rather than a general. He visited Drusus in Dalmatia, and spoke to him, "in confidence, of course, brother", in a manner which my son later described as "approaching the borders of sedition". He told Drusus that my judgment was failing, and the day might not be far off when they would have to declare me incompetent to rule. "He said it with that laugh of his, you know, so that it could be passed off as a joke if necessary. But I don't think he intended it as a jest."
He proceeded down the Dalmatian coast, through Albania and into Greece, till he reached the gulf of Nicepolis. There he surveyed the scene of Actium, and reminded me in a letter that it must arouse mixed emotions in his breast, since he was the grand-nephew of Augustus (and married to his grand-daughter) but also the grandson of Antony. "I am proud to think," he wrote to me, "that in my children the feud between those two great men is reconciled."
He visited Athens, ostentatiously approaching the city with only a single attendant, out of regard for our ancient treaty of alliance. The Athenians, always delighted, in their giddy-headed manner, with something new, received him with rapture; they scattered flowers before him, and regaled him with feats of oratory, which he bore with an equanimity that was not perhaps entirely insincere. His subsequent progress through Asia was slow: judging from his letters he was travelling as a tourist rather than a man on an urgent mission. I received three pages of vapid but euphoric descriptions of the site of Troy, which I had in any case visited myself. At Clarus he consulted the oracle of Apollo, where the priest, though illiterate and ignorant of metre, is accustomed to emerge from a cave, where he has drunk from a sacred spring, with a set of appropriate verses. Since neither Germanicus nor Agrippina broadcast their import, they cannot have pleased the young couple.
By the time he eventually reached Armenia, he found the immediate danger over. Certain Armenian noblemen – persons whom I had known myself or whose fathers had known me – had had the wit and enterprise to seek my advice directly. Letters were exchanged, presents were despatched according to their advice, and by the time my nephew came on the scene, I had arranged that he should crown Zeno, the son of King Ptolemo of Pontus, as their king. Zeno had long adopted the habits of Armenian noblemen, and he was devoted to hunting, feasting and such barbarian practices. Nevertheless, though the immediate danger was, as I say, past, the arrival of my nephew lent dignity to the occasion and mightily impressed the impressionable Armenians. Nor would I wish to deny that Germanicus carried out his duties in an altogether exemplary fashion.
Piso, meanwhile, had arrived in Syria, and was behaving in a manner which was not at all what I had intended. It may be that his elevation had gone to his head. Possibly he was prompted by his wife Plancina, a protegee, as it happened, of my mother; Plancina detested Agrippina and was determined to outshine her. At any rate a quarrel soon broke out between Piso and Germanicus. It was some time before I heard of it, and I was displeased. I had asked Piso to supervise Germanicus, not to thwart him; but by every mail I received complaints from my nephew. Piso, he said, was trying to secure the allegiance of his four legions for himself, rather than for Rome. Moreover he had refused to send Germanicus a legion when requested to do so; this was an infringement of Germanicus' maius imperium. In defence, Piso suggested that he was suspicious of Germanicus' intentions and was therefore unwilling to surrender one of his legions. As for allowing his men to call him "father of the army", of which Germanicus had complained: well, he couldn't prevent his popularity, could he? Besides, he said, he was suspicious of Germanicus' own intentions. I knew how he had behaved in Germany, and he was carrying on in the same way now. Piso was afraid that Germanicus intended mischief; "Think of Caesar," he said. Piso's letters were copious and detailed. I cannot quote them exactly or at length, for I later deemed it prudent to destroy them, but I remember that warning.
In the autumn Germanicus visited Egypt. He had no right to do so, as I reminded the Senate, for a senator, even a connection of the divine Augustus, required my permission in order to enter my private domain. I said this principally so that no other senator should feel free to follow my nephew's example, and the reproof I directed at him was mild; I merely pointed out that he should have asked my permission, which would, of course, have been granted, and that his failure to do so had set a bad example. Naturally he was interested in seeing the Egyptian sites. I remember I even asked him if he had seen the stone statue of Memnon, a remarkable object which gives out the sound of a voice when the sun's rays strike it. I advised him also to visit the great library of the Museum in Alexandria, and asked him to convey my regards to the great scholar Apion, whom I described as "the cymbal of the world"; his Egyptian history is full not only of recondite information but of sage reflections; his pamphlet Against the Jews, though perhaps intemperate, argues the case against that curious people's obstinate monotheism with acuity and vigour. These memories, unimportant in themselves, may serve to convince sceptics of my generally friendly relations with my nephew. However his with Piso had deteriorated abruptly. There were faults on both sides. Piso believed that Germanicus was employing his mains imperium in a manner that prejudiced his own authority. Germanicus complained that Piso had reversed orders he had given to divisional commanders. In a fit of pique he ordered him out of Syria, and Piso, though furious, finding his position intolerable, obeyed; he retired to the island of Cos. All this happened abruptly, without consultation with me.
Then Germanicus fell ill, of a fever common in these parts. He seemed to recover, then had a relapse. It was reported that he accused Piso and Plancina of having poisoned him. Agrippina, in no condition to judge anything, was vociferous in accusation. She ordered her slaves to seek evidence of poison and magic; naturally they found what they were required to find, as slaves will. Examination of the floor and walls of his bedroom revealed human bones, signs of spells, curses, and invocations; there were lead tablets inscribed with my nephew's name, charred and bloody ashes, and other "malignant objects effective to consign souls to the powers of the tomb", as they put it.
According to Marcus Friso, who subsequently made a full report of the circumstances to me, Germanicus then said, "Even if I were dying a natural death, I should have a legitimate grudge against the gods for parting me from wife, children, country and friends, and for denying me the due rewards of my virtue. But it is not the gods, but rather those demons in human shape, Piso and Plancina, whom I accuse. Tell my father, the emperor, of the vile conspiracy which has brought about my death. You will have the opportunity to protest to the Senate and invoke the law. The chief duty of a friend is not to walk in grief behind a corpse, but rather to remember the dead man's desires and carry out his will. Even strangers will mourn Germanicus. But if it was me you loved, not merely my rank, then I charge you to avenge me."
A slave wiped his brow with a cool napkin, while Agrippina stood by, dry-eyed and with a harsh expression on her face.
Germanicus raised himself on his elbow and continued: "Show Rome my wife, the grand-daughter of the divine Augustus. Display the weeping faces of our six children. Sympathy will go to the accusers. Any tale of criminal instructions given to Piso will be hard to believe; but if believed, far harder to forgive."
This was a remarkable speech from a dying man, or would have been if Friso had actually heard it. In fact, as he made clear, he was repeating only the version sanctioned by Agrippina. The only authentic touch was the contrast between the concerned care of the slave and her dry eyes. Friso added that Agrippina had also told her intimates that Germanicus had advised her to tread warily where I myself was concerned. He died. In his funeral eulogy he was compared to Alexander. No one is on oath on such occasions, but this was absurd. It was said that after defeating the Germans many times, he had not been allowed to complete their subjugation. If he had been in sole control, he would have equalled Alexander in military renown as easily as he surpassed him in decency, self-control and every good quality.
It was easy to see at whom the eulogy was aimed, by whom it had been inspired.
His body lay in state in the main piazza of Antioch. Some of those who examined it found indubitable evidence of poisoning, which must be accounted a medical miracle. Then it was cremated, not embalmed, as one might have thought proper in such circumstances. Agrippina appointed Gnaeus Sentius Saturninus commander of her late husband's legions, and, in effect, Governor of Syria; then she sailed for Italy with her children and the ashes of her husband. I say "she appointed" because that was actually, as Friso told me, what happened, though of course it was dressed up in a more suitable manner, and it was given out that the decision had been made by senior officials, officers and senators. Sentius then fortified the province against Piso. He also arrested and sent to Rome a woman called Martina who was known to be a friend of Plancina and who was, he reported, a notorious poisoner.
Piso, confident that he was still rightful Governor of Syria, on the strength of his original appointment by me, which I had not had either the occasion or indeed the opportunity to revoke, now attempted to re-enter his province. Sentius resisted him. There was a brief scuffle or passage of arms, and Piso, lacking support even from those legions he had formerly commanded (whose officers had mostly been suspended either by Germanicus or by Sentius), surrendered. He was placed under arrest and despatched to Rome, charged with making war against Roman forces.
This news came in piecemeal as Agrippina journeyed slowly, with many stops, across wintry seas to Italy. I was horrified to learn of Germanicus' death. I mourned him as a young man of infinite promise and the son of my beloved brother Drusus. Yet our emotions are rarely single, and my grief was not unmixed with the sense that the gods had done Rome a favour. I regretted also the disgrace of my old friend Piso, and could not believe the accusations being brought against him. Nevertheless these had to be investigated and if they were proved then I had to confess myself sorely deceived in Piso. I could never forgive the murder of my nephew – if it had been murder. My mind was confused, flickering between darkness and light. It was impossible to know what to do for the best.
Naturally I ordered official mourning for the young man. People fell over themselves to express the depth of their loss, in language which was understandable, if excessive. On such occasions exaggeration becomes the norm. Even sensible people are caught up in the general mood, and imagine that public affairs affect them more nearly than they actually do. It is easy to suppose that one's life is blighted by events which in reality trouble only the imagination.
I sent two battalions of the Praetorian Guard to greet Agrip-pina at Brindisi. I hesitated at first to put my dear Sejanus in charge for I knew the depths of the woman's antipathy towards him. On reflection, however, I decided that it was necessary to have a man there whom I could trust; and there was no one, except Drusus, in whom I reposed more trust than Sejanus. This was just as well, for the public mood was such that even the Guards themselves might have been infected. As it was, a curious incident took place at Brindisi. The alleged poisoner, Martina, arrived there about the same time, in a different ship. The next day, she was found dead, while Agrippina was still in the city. There were no marks of violence, but poison was found in the roots of her hair. Naturally some people said she had killed herself; others that she had been murdered for fear of what she might reveal. Human nature being as it is, the worst possible construction was put on this. Few reflected that the motive for her murder (if she was indeed murdered) might have been the knowledge that the wretch had nothing to reveal.
Agrippina's journey to Rome with her husband's ashes was superbly stage-managed. She held, or was accorded, a reception in every town, and lost no opportunity to win sympathy and applause, and to present herself as a sorely aggrieved woman. Sejanus was powerless to do anything but observe and report. His natural prudence told him that it was impossible to stem the surge of sympathy even though at every step it threatened to boil over into sedition.
Germanicus' own mother, Antonia, was so disgusted by her daughter-in-law's histrionics that she refused to leave her house and greet the arrival of the cortege in Rome. Naturally I did not do so either. For one thing, Sejanus warned me that my presence might provoke disorder. His advice was good, but my absence was criticised. Drusus, however, approved it; his wife, Julia Livilla, though Agrippina's sister-in-law, suggested that the thing to do with the grieving widow was to chuck a bucket of cold water over her. "Even in the nursery," she told Drusus, "she was always acting. And as for her love for my brother, she made his life a perfect misery by her constant nagging and complaining." Of course the crowds were ignorant of this; they revered Agrippina as the model of what a woman should be.
I myself arranged that Germanicus' ashes should be laid in the mausoleum near those of Augustus. A huge crowd turned out, the Field of Mars was ablaze with torches. Agrippina stimulated the mob to orgies of grief; she had taken care to distribute a quantity of gold, and her paid creatures exerted themselves in eulogies of her virtue and bitter accusations directed against Piso and those who had "encouraged" him. They had their effect; there were disgraceful riots in the Suburra, Trastevere and the Field of Mars itself. It seemed to me that the situation was getting absurdly out of hand, and I issued the following statement to try to persuade people to return to their senses. Famous Romans have died before, but none has been so ardently mourned. I commend your devotion to the memory of Germanicus, my dear son and nephew. But moderation should be observed. The conduct of ordinary families or communities should not be the model for an imperial people. After the first tears, we should observe calm. Remember with what restrained dignity Julius Caesar mourned his daughter and Augustus his beloved grandsons. Remember how our forefathers courageously endured the loss of armies, the death of generals and the destruction of great families, eschewing the tears and lamentations which are suitable only to women. It is not for Romans to resemble hysterical and effeminate Orientals. Great men die; the country lives for ever. So I request citizens to return to their ordinary occupations, and since the Megalesian Games are due to start, to their proper pleasures. My words had their desired effect. People were ashamed of their extravagances. Normal life was resumed – to Agrippina's indignation.
It could not, unfortunately, last. What we call normal is all too often what we aspire to, rather than what we actually experience. In this instance, the lull was short. There was Piso to be considered. He had returned to Rome and was now under a species of restriction in his own house. It overlooked the Forum, and Plancina soon attracted unwelcome attention by the lavish dinner-parties she organised in an attempt to drum up support for her beleaguered husband.
His case was desperate, and appeared the more so to me as I received more information about his rash and indisciplined conduct. My mother urged me to prevent any trial taking place.
"Plancina is a good friend of mine," she said, "and I have talked with her at length. I am convinced that the accusations levelled at her and her husband are unfounded. It is impossible that they should have murdered Germanicus. Do you really imagine that if I believed otherwise I should hold any conversation with my grandson's murderer? But it is all the product of Agrippina's warped imagination. She is beside herself with grief, spite and disappointment."
"I can't stop a trial," I said. "It would give substance to the rumours that make me worse than their accomplice. The whole thing must be aired in court and I am sure they will be acquitted of the charge of murder."
"Nothing good will come of it," Livia said. "I know people better than you do. If a trial takes place, it will merely give people the opportunity to spread worse and more lurid rumours. For the plebeians find it impossible to distinguish between putting a man on trial and finding him guilty. You will regret this trial if you permit it."
She was right of course, but I could not prevent the trial. Livia's logic was merely abstract; she had withdrawn from the realities of political affairs, where contingency rules, and one has to act in response to pressures. To have prevented the trial would have been tantamount to declaring not only that Piso was guilty of the worst crimes with which he was charged, but that rumour was right, and he had acted at my behest. Otherwise – men would say – why should I choose to protect him?
Besides, I did not wish to do so. I had trusted Piso, and in one way or another, he had betrayed that trust. I had thought him competent and sagacious, and he had proved a fool.
When the Senate met charges were brought against him, first by Lucius Fulcinius Trio, then by two members of Germanicus' staff, Publius Vitellius and Quintus Vernaius. I was asked to take over the enquiry, but urged that it should be heard by the whole Senate. However, I outlined my view of the case.
"Gnaeus Piso," I said, "was trusted and admired by Augustus, and by me myself. With your approval, Conscript Fathers, I made him Germanicus' helper in his Eastern duties. Unfortunately, as the world knows, they did not see eye to eye, and unwelcome and unforeseen developments took place. Now it is your duty to decide, objectively and without malice, whether, having upset Germanicus by disobedience and quarrelling, he merely rejoiced at his death (about his rejoicing there is no dispute) or whether he did worse than that, and actually compassed his death.
"Now, if you decide the former, and conclude that Piso exceeded his position and then exulted at Germanicus' death – and at my sorrow, bear that in mind – then I shall renounce his friendship and close my doors against him. But I shall not use those powers which you have chosen to confer upon me merely to avenge private wrongs.
"If, on the other hand, you find proof of murder, a crime which would require vengeance whatever the victim's rank, it will be your duty to give satisfaction to the children of Germanicus and to us, his parents and family. There are also other matters which you must consider. "First, did Piso incite his troops to mutiny and rebellion? "Second, did he bribe them to support him?
"Third, did he make rash and illegal war to recover his province…?
"But you must also ask yourselves whether these are lies spread and elaborated by those whose grief has dislodged their reason.
"In this context, I must say that the excessive vigour displayed by some who are eager to fasten a crime on Piso has given me cause for irritation. For to strip my son's body and expose it to the vulgar gaze, thus encouraging – even among foreigners – the report that he had been poisoned, served no good purpose, since this question is still undecided, and is indeed the object of your enquiry.
"I would remind you, Conscript Fathers, that sensationalism is the enemy of justice; and that justice is the fruit of reason, not emotion.
"I grieve for my son, Germanicus, and always shall, till death releases me in my turn. But I offer the accused every opportunity of producing evidence which may establish his innocence, or proof that Germanicus provoked and maltreated him, if that was the case. I go so far as to say that I hope he may be able to clear himself, since, for my part, the discovery that a Roman nobleman in whom I had put my trust should have proved so unworthy of my confidence would be yet another bitter draught to swallow.
"I implore you not to regard charges as proofs merely because you are conscious of my personal grief.
"Those whose relationship to Piso, or loyalty towards him have made them his defenders should help him without fear in his hour of need…" Such was my speech, and I do not regret it. It would have been dishonourable to have spoken in any other way. Yet night fell, and I knew that I had failed. My measured words were condemned on every side. Those who believed that Germanicus had been the victim of Piso and Plancina angrily complained that I had invited the Senate to acquit him. Their adherents, on the other hand, accused me of having abandoned them. Livia said, "I never thought a son of mine could have been such a coward: to desert your friends in such an attempt to appease your inveterate enemies. It's worse than a crime, it's a blunder, and the consequences will hound you to the grave." Yet I could not have spoken otherwise, though it was pointless to offer that argument to my mother.
The trial was conducted during foul weather. The tramontana blew cold, gusting round the Senate House and making the canopies of stalls and litters flap furiously. The weather did not deter the mob. They also blew like an angry tempest, jostling senators and threatening them with violence if they did not vote to their satisfaction. They swarmed round the litter that carried the wretched Piso to his daily ordeal, screaming out that he might escape the Senate, but never them; they would string him up if he was acquitted. Some of them seized his statue and began to haul it to the Gemonian Steps, but I sent in the guards to arrest them. I was determined that the city should not be given over to the violence of the mob.
Rumours abounded. The most dangerous was the suggestion, put out by some of Piso's supporters and eagerly believed by my enemies, that he would produce a letter from me which would justify all his actions. No such letter existed. Yet I was disturbed by the rumours, not only because they were so widely believed, but also because I feared that a letter might indeed have been forged. I therefore ordered Sejanus to interrogate Piso and search his house. Sejanus threw himself back in the chair and stretched his arms above his head. He laughed. I have seen lions, in the arena which I detest, move like Sejanus, with the same grace and menace. He laughed again.
"Poor Piso," he said, "poor bugger, he knows it's all up with him." "But the document, the letter." "There is no letter. You know there isn't." "And none has been forged?"
"My men turned the place upside down. Piso was indignant. He told me, 'You know perfectly well there's nothing to be found'. The fact is, in his strange way, he has thought of forging a document, of course he has, but something held him back." "Honour?"
"Perhaps. Fear more likely. He still hopes you will halt the prosecution. He still maintains he never went beyond what he understood your intentions to be. Not till the last moment, when he invaded Syria. He knows he did wrong there. He knows they have got him on that count."
"Sejanus," I hesitated, embarrassed as I had never been with him before, "when you saw Piso before he took up his appointment, how far did you go?" He smiled, yawned, stretched himself again.
"It's a bit late to ask that," he said. "Tiberius," he continued. "There's nothing for you to get tense about. All you have to do is let the law take its course." "Let the law take its course?" Livia snapped her fan shut. "Are you mad? When you start sacrificing your friends to your enemies, I believe you to have taken leave of your senses. Don't you understand, child, that woman is implacable? When she attacks Piso, that's only the first step. You are her real target. Besides, it's absurd to think Plancina could be guilty of murder. I've known her since she was a little girl." There was no evidence of murder, nothing but spiteful rumours. Some were ridiculous. It was suggested that Piso had first tried to poison Germanicus on an occasion when they had been neighbours at dinner. Even some of Germanicus' friends found it too fantastic to suppose that he should have attempted this in front of witnesses which included Germanicus himself and his slaves. Piso scoffed at the charge and offered his own slaves for torture, demanding too that the waiters at that dinner-party should be put to the question. But the defence faltered everywhere else. Evidence that Piso had bribed troops, subverted discipline and invaded the province was overwhelming. Realising this, Plancina, who had sworn that she would share his fate, now desperate only to save herself, resolved to conduct a separate defence. That evening it was necessary to double the number of guards who escorted him home.
Towards nightfall I was informed that Piso's secretary was seeking an audience. I declined to see him. There was nothing I could do, and I had no wish to compromise my own position by entertaining such an emissary in conversation. I therefore returned the message that I was confident Piso would act in a manner worthy of his ancestors.
I do not know how Piso received my message. At some point during the night he abandoned hope. He gave a note to one of his slaves and, announcing that he was ready for sleep, dismissed Plancina and his attendants from his chamber. He was found in the morning with his throat cut. A bloody sword lay on the floor beside his body.
The news was brought to me in the cold morning. Black clouds scudded across the sky. I watched a procession of worshippers, heads covered, move towards the Temple of Mars the Avenger. Jackdaws were flung in wild flight by the winds. The slave fell on the ground before me, extending a hand which clutched a sealed document. Piso had written: Conspiracy and hatred have ruined me. There is no place left for innocence and honesty. I call the gods to witness, Caesar, that I have always been loyal to you, and dutiful to the Augusta. I beg you both to protect my children. Marcus accompanied me to Syria, but had first advised me against doing so; his brother Gnaeus has never left Rome. I pray that they who are innocent should not share in my misfortune. By my forty-five years of loyalty, by our joint consulship, by the memory of our friendship, I, whom your father the divine Augustus honoured, and whom you befriended, implore you to spare my unfortunate son. It is the last thing I shall ask of anyone. I passed the letter to Sejanus.
"He doesn't once mention Plancina," I said. "Well, all friendship is but a memory now, but we shall see that his son does not suffer…" To please my mother, I argued Plancina's case before the Senate. Piso was rash, but he was murdered by public opinion as surely as if the mob had lynched him as they threatened to do. On the day of his funeral Agrippina gave a dinner-party. I declined an invitation to attend.
How many nights I have gazed at the majesty of the skies, and thought of Piso during his last hours on earth, deserted, empty of hope, finally absolute for death. There have been many times I have envied him.