The Conspiracy

by John Hersey

  HIMSELF: How was the murder to have been accomplished?

  They had had much discussion on this point, Lucan said, now in full possession of his double perfidy—to Himself and to his fellow conspirators. In the early weeks, several conspirators had urged Piso to invite Himself to Baiae, for all knew what delight the Emperor had taken in Piso’s intimate gardens there, how several times in recent years he had visited Piso and had divested Himself entirely at Piso’s house of all the forms of office, including his guards, and had indulged in bath and banquet as if he were simply a citizen and friend of the host. But Piso, according to Lucan, would not have it done this way; he would not tolerate the opprobrium of hospitality turned to the uses of murder, and he said his household deities could not be bloodied. Piso had urged instead that it be done in the Golden House, which had been built on the plunder and deprivation of the citizenry; or, better yet, in a public place, as an act of public benefaction. In the end they had decided to do it—take note, Paenus!—on the day of the Circus games in honor of Ceres. This was how they had planned to do it: The Consul-elect Plautius Lateranus was going to put before Himself a personal entreaty, and in the course of his plea he was going to drop down, in a perfectly acceptable gesture of supplication, and clasp Himself’s knees. Being a powerfully built man of iron nerve, he was then to tighten his grip, topple Himself over backwards, and hold him down while others came forward to dispatch him. Scaevinus had claimed the honor of being the first to stab Himself.

  TIGELLINUS: With a dagger he had stolen from the Temple of Fortune in Farentum.

  LUCAN: Yes.

  So much for Scaevinus’s calm denials.

  I now urged Himself to put an end to the interrogation so we could hurry to the arrests that must be made.

  HIMSELF, to LUCAN: Because you were once my friend, and because you have given me valuable information, you may return freely to your house. But you are not to speak to anyone on the way, and you are to stay there, receiving no visitors. If you try to leave your house, you will be killed at once. Tigellinus, see to this.

  Thus the interrogation was adjourned.

  * * *

  —

  By my own hand—T.

  Still no arrestees. I must share with you some quick impressions.

  I wish I could cry out in joy: At last we have them! At last it is out in the open! Instead, I am full of new concerns.

  First, the extent of the conspiracy. You may have noticed the haste with which I broke off the interrogation of Lucan. I do not like to admit fear, as you know, but his having given, for example, the name of Severus badly frightened me. Severus has seemed one of the most trustworthy of Himself’s friends. You remember that when I was worried about the effrontery of the Consul Vestinus, with his elegant private guard which so offended Himself, it was to Severus that I turned as an intermediary. How many others who have direct access to Himself’s heart and chambers are in the plot? We need names. How many nasty surprises will there be?

  Second, the present state of mind of Himself. You have seen that in spite of the vacillation in his feelings toward Lucan, he reacted shrewdly and coolly to the very serious revelations Lucan finally offered. But afterwards it was a different matter. In utmost confidence, Himself cannot at this moment be depended on for wise decisions. He refuses to arrest Seneca. When I began to argue with him about this, he flew into a dangerous temper. He has offered two sacrifices to his girl-goddess since the session with Lucan.

  Third, my greatest alarm has to do with what we had learned from Seneca’s letters—that military men are involved. We have had Subrius Flavus under vague suspicion, but the name of young Sulpicius Asper was a shock to me. I have been the very one to bring him quick promotions. Lucan says he himself was for Piso, but we know that Seneca is, or was, the choice of the military. Is there a split in the conspiracy? We must be alert to exploit it if there is. Is there a second and more serious stage yet to be revealed? In the dispositions, after the alarm, Rufus has been most cooperative. It can be no secret to you that my relationship with him has not been without tension. His good soldierly qualities, fortunately, have come out under pressure. But we cannot trust all the soldiers, and we do not know which we can. This is why I ordered you to send agents to supplement the Praetorian bodyguard in protecting the Person.

  Fourth, Himself, the Empress, and I were all agreed that we should simply ignore for now Lucan’s monstrous accusation against his mother, Atilla. It was blurted out in such a peculiar way just when he broke. It was as if all the spite in Lucan’s cowardly nature had suddenly been focused on…on whom, really? On his own despicable self? On Epicharis, who had betrayed him by dying? On his mother?

  Fifth, despite the misgivings I am now sharing with you, rest assured that I am strong and confident. Don’t forget that we are dealing with mere thinkers.

  * * *

  —

  Orders:

  As the arrestees come in, we must act quickly to get more names. We must divide up the task of interrogation. Himself will not be capable of abstaining. I am glad of the revealed talents of Poppaea. She and I will join him in questioning Lateranus, Severus, the Tribune Flavus, the Centurion Asper. Send us the giant Cassius.

  You and Rufus should proceed at once to reexamine Scaevinus and Natalis, using the information you now have to break their lying. Question also, when they are brought in, Quintianus, Gallus. You had better have some strong soldiers with you. Report new names to me as soon as they are given.

  * * *

  —

  All of our energy now goes into detection, prevention, protection. It gives us strength to have these explicit tasks. But beyond the breaking of this plot, Paenus, I see a dark abyss—the time when we look with Himself to the question whether we have not done our job too well, whether we have not isolated him not only from danger but also from reality; the time, Paenus, when we think in larger terms than we ever have about the meaning of the word “security.”

  FIVE

  To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police

  A runner has come to inform us that Piso has been captured at his own house. He put up no resistance and is preparing himself for death.

  To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police

  Rufus and I have questioned Natalis and Scaevinus separately. Both are broken—but that is not quite the word for it. With extraordinary coolness, like dogs shaking their bodies as they come out of water, they have shed their lies and have confirmed Lucan’s revelations. They wag their tails when praised.

  They give these new names: Cervarius Proculus, Julius Augurinus, Marcius Festus, Munatius Gratus, Vulcatius Araricus—all of equestrian rank.

  They profess to know no military names.

  These men are so sanguine in their treachery toward their co-conspirators, so complacent and corruptible, that I would strongly recommend your bringing them into the Presence to confront all arrestees as Himself and you question them.

  And note especially, in view of Himself’s reluctance to move against Seneca: Natalis talks freely about his visit to Seneca. He acted, he says, as Piso’s go-between with Seneca. Says there is no question that Seneca is a conspirator. Himself must hear this testimony firsthand.

  To PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police, from TIGELLINUS

  Yes, send us Natalis and Scaevinus.

  Arrest the named conspirators.

  To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police

  For highest eyes.

  This excellent report comes from our agent Ampius Clemens, one of the arresting officers at Piso’s house. Ampius got this information both directly from Piso, who is showing the same craven spirit as Lucan, and from the men around Piso in his house—men whom Ampius has not failed to arrest: Claudius Capito, Obutronius Vergilio, and Tetius Simplex.

  Here is the report:

&n
bsp; “Piso has written a new will which begins in these terms: Moved by the benign soul and radiant gifts of Nero Caesar, who like effulgent Aurora brings new joy daily to all the windows of Rome…And more like that. You can see how abject the leader of the conspiracy is at this time. No, beyond abject. He is in the act of letting his blood out of his veins; his presumptuous life may at this very moment have come to an end. Long life to Nero Caesar!

  “I will quickly sketch the movements of Piso this morning.

  “It seems that the conspirators, getting wind of the arrest of Epicharis four days ago, decided to hurry things on and do their crime at the Circus yesterday. But when they learned of the betrayal of Scaevinus by Milichus, and of the arrests of Scaevinus and Natalis, they decided against the attempt at the Circus. This morning several of the civilian conspirators urged Piso to come out in the open as a candidate for the emperorship; to go to the Praetorian camp and harangue the soldiers or to the Forum and speak to the citizens, or both. If he did this, they argued, his supporters would rally around him, many others with grudges and with a desire for freedom would join, and a brave mob spirit could be roused. Nero was not prepared for anything like this, they said. He was a singer of female parts, and his Tigellinus had a loud voice but was in fact a cowardly horse merchant, and the whole pack of them at the court were smothered by female flesh and would be thrown into hysteria by unexpected danger. Besides, Piso could no longer hope for secrecy. He would soon have to face, in any case, chains or torture or death. How much better to die, if he must, they argued, making an outcry against tyranny.

  “Piso—this is the measure of the man—half agreed. Halfheartedly he showed himself at the Rostra. There was a great commotion, great interest, a large crowd quickly gathered. But Piso could not bring himself to cry out, Death to Nero! He simply showed himself there for a few minutes, while rumors flew around him. Then he weakly went home and tried to barricade the doors of his house.

  “When the doors were broken down and he was confronted, he sat down forthwith, in doglike resignation, and began the new will which I have already mentioned. I will send it on as soon as we have confirmed Piso’s death and taken care of the body. A document crawling with flattery of Himself—clearly written in the hope that his wife Atria Galla will be spared at least a part of his wealth. An ignoble and loathsome end. To think that Rome might have suffered under that infamous weak man! Long live Nero Caesar!”

  Consider, Tigellinus, how Lucan and Piso have crawled. Do you suppose all these lovers of literature are cut from the same cheap and flimsy piece of cloth?

  To PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police, from TIGELLINUS

  We have completed successful questioning of Lateranus and Severus.

  Arrest: Julius Agrippa, Julius Altinus, Musonius Rufus, Verginius Flavus, Cluvidienus Quietus, Blitius Catulinis, Petronius Priscus.

  To PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police, from TIGELLINUS

  Urgent.

  Himself has heard the testimony of Natalis on Seneca. (You were right about Natalis and Scaevinus, particularly the former. Invaluable.) We have had a difficult scene. We dismissed all from the room. I told Himself of the letter Seneca wrote Lucan about the night visitor. At first Himself would not believe me. I went myself to my locked files and fetched the copy of the letter. When he read it he vented a rage not at Seneca but at me—for not having told him about it sooner. Poppaea pointed out to him that there was no good in railing against Tigellinus at a moment when he should be sentencing Seneca to death.

  What followed was terrible, Paenus. It was as if Himself were an accused person, Poppaea a hostile and threatening questioner. He seemed to be in physical pain. Seneca stands for a side of him that is very tender—and so, of course, does Lucan, in a different and perhaps even more intense way. It is the side of unrealized possibilities, of broken-down ambitions that sometimes apparently loom at Himself like alley thieves in the night. For Seneca was right: Nero wanted in earlier years to be as wise, as clement, as temperate, as judicious, as honorable as Augustus. He also wanted, among other things, to be the equal of Ovid and Virgil, to say nothing of mere Lucan. Now some ugly thoughts poured out, snatched from the base of his tongue by those alley thieves. He accused Poppaea of wanting to be a man, and of having been jealous of an old man—Seneca. He shouted that I had led him into grossness and pleasure hunts. Poppaea bluntly told him not to blame me for his lusts and for his peacock vanity, and reminded him that we should be talking about Seneca’s sedition, not his own mischief. So it went back and forth—Himself trying again and again to shift the talk away from the sentence of death that Poppaea fiercely urged.

  Himself refused to agree to the extreme penalty, but he did consent—pay careful attention—to send a messenger to Seneca, who would say to him:

  “Natalis visited you on behalf of the conspirator Piso. Natalis says he asked you why you did not want to see Piso, and he says that you replied that frequent meetings with Piso would serve the purposes of neither yourself nor Piso, but that your life did depend upon Piso’s safety. Is this an accurate description of your exchange? If so, why did you reply as you did?”

  Find out where Seneca is. Get Rufus to nominate an officer he especially trusts. Go yourself with this officer and repeat the above to Seneca in the officer’s presence. Bring us his answer. You are strictly forbidden to ask Seneca any other questions.

  April 28

  To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police

  We have finally found Seneca. He had been spending some days in Campania, and on the way back to Nomentum he had stopped over at the country house of a friend of his named Marcellinus, four miles out the Via Appia.

  Rufus has appointed Gavius Silvanus, Tribune of a Praetorian cohort, to go with me. We will take a troop of soldiers and some mounted couriers. It will be dark before we get there.

  To TIGELLINUS from PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police

  In view of the delicacy of this mission, I am sending Silvanus himself, together with a regular courier, with this message.

  We arrived at Marcellinus’s house, surrounded it with soldiers, and entered. Seneca was at dinner with his wife Pompeia Paulina, Marcellinus, and the latter’s wife. This Marcellinus is a witty, easygoing fellow, considerably younger than Seneca, a close friend, I gather, of Lucilius Junior, the young man to whom Seneca writes his insufferable moral epistles. The dinner was evidently simple, the small company carefree; I heard unrestrained laughter from within as we were admitted.

  Tigellinus, I entered here a quite different world from that of the craven Lucan and Piso. Seneca got up from his couch as a freedman announced our names, and he asked Marcellinus to receive us as honored guests.

  My bearing was formal. I said I had a message of inquiry from Nero Caesar.

  Yes, but a couch must be prepared. Wine, both in libation to the household deities and in welcome to Silvanus and me as men. It goes without saying that Seneca knows what has been happening in recent days; we could hear the coughing and chatter of the soldiers around the house. Yet there was not the slightest sign of tension, or even concern, in his manner.

  Finally we were settled and Seneca turned an open face to me.

  I repeated, word for word from your directive, the accusations of Natalis, and I asked for Seneca’s response.

  Yes, he said, Natalis had come to him, more or less as a messenger from Piso, as he understood it. Natalis had chided him, in Piso’s name, for avoiding Piso. Seneca said that he had told Natalis that he was avoiding everyone; he had not been feeling well and had been declining all invitations, including even one from the Emperor, to a literary evening at the Golden House. Here I wish to report Seneca’s exact words, because they are heavy with significance and they are subject to variable interpretation.

  SENECA, as to Natalis: I have no motive for placing the interest of a private citizen, even one as distinguished a
s Piso, ahead of my own well-being. I know that Piso is the sort of man who attracts a following, who draws flattery—but I do not have a talent for flattery.

  Here Seneca, looking me directly in the eye, broke off his report of his words to Natalis and added: No one knows this better than Nero, who has had over the years more tongue-lashing than boot-licking from me.

  He left it at that. That was all the “explanation” or response he wished to give. He was suddenly tart and testy. I felt that I was in the presence of an immensely powerful and independent soul.

  This matter is too important to be settled without most careful consideration. I hope that you, Tigellinus, and even Himself will forgive me for a word of interpretive comment, based upon nothing more substantial than the tone of this encounter—the look in Seneca’s eye, let us say.

  I would speculate as follows: that Seneca was approached by a conspirator, as his letter to Lucan so vividly described; that for some reason no further contact with Seneca was made; that he is hurt and angry, and at the same time profoundly relieved. I could be quite wrong in this intuition. Perhaps Seneca is a skilled actor. If he has deceived me, there is great danger. But I do not think he has. I realize that in the context of these days I stake my very life on this “do not think.”

  I await here, in a room apart from Seneca, Himself’s command.

  To PAENUS, Tribune of Secret Police, from TIGELLINUS

  The Tribune Silvanus gave us your message. Himself read it several times over. He seemed much affected by your comments at the end, but at the same time he showed flashes of anger. The revelations of the past days have been pounding at him, and he is sore. Poppaea was relentless. She kept holding before him the effrontery of Seneca’s “tongue-lashing.” Himself finally flew into a rage—I could not say exactly at what or at whom. He asked Silvanus if Seneca was on the point of letting the blood out of his veins. Silvanus said he was sure that Seneca was not considering suicide; he had showed no signs of fear, no acknowledgment of guilt, not even any sadness. At this Himself, still at the peak of his aimless fury, commanded Silvanus to go back and announce the death sentence.