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by Alfred Duggan


  But it would seem very strange to these magistrates who studied to follow the ways of the ancestors. I could see the shock in their eyes. I shivered for his safety, and for my own.

  9. Weddings

  I was not alone in seeing that the Emperor would make a bad impression if he entered the City wearing the ritual dress of his high priesthood. The Augusta also had noted the dismay of the Senators. After we had heard the address of welcome the whole procession was halted; when we continued the Emperor, in full armour, rode in a triumphal car. The car was drawn by the customary four white horses; but they proceeded at a stately walk, led by attendants on foot. Gordius stood beside the seated Emperor; but he held an umbrella over his master’s head and might be taken by the public for a confidential slave.

  The official procession comprised only the Praetorians, the Alban Legions, the Emperor and the Senators. I might have marched with the Praetorians, since my name was still on their roll; but I shrank from such a long walk in the heat of a summer afternoon. Instead I accompanied the baggage carts, which made their own way to the palace. I was in good company. The Augusta and the other imperial ladies also crept into the City with the Emperor’s baggage. So did the senior partner in the government, the sky-stone with his attendant priests.

  No Emperor had set foot in Rome since the Divine Caracalla set out on his Parthian campaign, nearly five years ago. That was one reason why my lord’s state entry was greeted with wild enthusiasm. It meant also that we found the palace in great disorder. For more than a century the Emperor’s palace in Rome has been a makeshift affair, ever since the Divine Vespasianus curried favour with the gentry by destroying Nero’s Golden House. The buildings on the Palatine crowd together in a shapeless lump, with plenty of little studies for business but not enough great halls for ceremony. When we arrived there was not even a proper ceremonial entrance, such as you find in every palace built by a petty eastern ruler. While the buildings stood empty they had in theory been looked after by a large staff of freedmen and slaves; but the freedmen had neglected – their duties, and most of the slaves had run away. The place had been sketchily cleaned by the servants of the urban praetor, in readiness for its new occupant; but it was sparsely furnished, and in the kitchen, especially, much essential equipment was missing.

  There was great confusion when 600 baggage carts, and the litters of the imperial ladies, all arrived together at the back door. But our servants had looked after us in strange places for every night of our 1,600 mile journey, and they treated the great palace as though it were just another halt on the road. They got fires going in the kitchen, and put up travelling beds in the cleanest rooms. Three hours after our arrival the majordomo had the trumpets blown for supper. It was nearly midnight, an odd time to begin a meal; but I set off, guided by the smell of cooked food, to find my way to the dining hall.

  It was a gloomy, musty hall, a long way from the kitchen; but it was big enough to hold the numerous company. The furniture was old and battered, and not all of it very clean; but once it had been worthy of the lord of the civilized world. When I arrived boys were already handing round wine, and after a steward had shown me to a couch I felt more cheerful.

  There were nine couches to a table in that crowded hall, which meant that the company must be mixed. At my table I found a tribune and three centurions from the Praetorians, and four youths from the racing stables of Nicomedia. Now that I did no regular duty I felt awkward in the presence of serving soldiers; outside the imperial household the stable boys would have been reckoned ignoble, unworthy to recline beside honourable citizens. But even these uncongenial companions showed that someone had tried to look after me; I might have been put with a clutch of stewards and clerks, Syrian pen-pushers who always got on my nerves.

  We were all in very high spirits. The Praetorians could talk of nothing but the rousing reception of the crowd; the stable boys were on fire to taste the dissipations of Rome. We all felt that a function which might have turned out badly had passed off better than we had expected.

  ‘I’ve never heard such cheering,’ said the tribute. ‘In the Camp everyone remarked on it. Tonight they will have a wonderful party; bad luck that it’s my turn for palace guard. But I’ll be back in quarters before all the wine is finished. The men who are far guard tomorrow are the real unlucky ones. In the morning they will have to parade sober, just when we are getting ready to enjoy ourselves.’

  ‘Then the Emperor had a good welcome?’ I asked, eager for reassurance even though I knew the answer.

  ‘Magnificent. They shouted that he was Severus come again. They are calling him Antoninus, and that’s the highest praise they can give. He looked an Antoninus, too, in his golden armour. I didn’t know the boy had it in him.’

  ‘You didn’t see him at Immae. He can rise to an occasion. He’s good when something is happening, something exciting enough to make him forget his funny little sky-stone.’ This was one of the centurions, speaking rather too freely in the presence of a commissioned officer. It came as a shock to me, after my months as a courtier, to hear these soldiers discuss the points of their ruler so casually. I had forgotten that soldiers, and Praetorians in particular, feel that they own the Empire. They had bestowed the Purple on young Elagabalus, and if he did not please them they could take it away again.

  Then the majordomo banged for silence, and we all got to our feet as the Emperor hurried in. He had taken off his armour and wore a simple Roman tunic, though the laurel wreath was still on his head. He was arm-in-arm with Gordius, but otherwise he had no attendants.

  He was very happy, and as usual wanted everyone else to be happy too. A couch was ready for him at the far end of the hall, but he stopped on the way there to have a word with several friends. He shouted a greeting to the stable boys beside me, and then stopped as though reminded of something and beckoned me over to him.

  ‘There you are, Duratius. I didn’t see you in the procession. Don’t you think my extra special private bodyguard ought to have been on hand when those dangerous Senators pressed round me? Never mind, perhaps you feared I might ask you to dance. Let me see, you are dismissed from the council. I don’t forget my promises. All the same, the Augusta wants to see you in the morning, early, before they loose the petitioners into her anteroom. I don’t know why she wants you, but she asked me to deliver the message.’

  He moved on, still chatting easily. He was the Emperor, the partner of the Sun-god; he saw himself as so infinitely superior to all his subjects that he might deliver messages to centurions, or let stable boys slap him on the back, without impairing his majesty.

  By the time he was gratefully arranged on his couch, beaming over the wine-cup at his faithful courtiers, the buzz of conversation was concerned only with the splendid Games which would mark his arrival in the palace of his ancestors. Even the Praetorians had forgotten their criticisms; the Emperor had only to move through a crowd and the charm and beauty of his person silenced the doubts raised by his unconventional conduct.

  Sleeping in the cluttered palace was no worse than a night on campaign, and I was properly dressed in a burnished cuirass when I waited on the Augusta at sunrise. The Emperor had chosen a bedchamber at the far end of the building, with his stable boys bedded down in the anteroom and the corridor; so the Augusta had been allotted the principal state apartment, not far from the main entrance. Her maids were expecting me, and I was admitted as soon as I arrived.

  The Augusta lay in an enormous carved bed, among a huddle of purple silk coverlets. Her white hair had been freshly arranged above her brown face; the toils of the journey had fined down the luxury of Nicomedia, and she looked more than ever like a benevolent goddess. She was still very tired; but not at all sleepy. As usual, she had planned in advance what she wanted to say, and she began to speak without hesitation.

  ‘Duratius, the Emperor has very properly removed you from the council. It was an honour you did not seek, and unfitting to your rank. You know very well that you might
command an army, but if you think the work beyond you I won’t press you to accept promotion. That doesn’t mean you can go back to being an ordinary centurion. You are marked as an imperial favourite; the soldiers would regard you as a police agent planted in the Camp. So if you want to stay in Rome, we must find you some reasonable occupation. Or if you like you can take your savings and go off to live quietly in the provinces. Are you still willing to work for the Emperor?’

  ‘Of course I am willing, Augusta. On the battlefield of Immae I took an oath of my own free will. Besides, I can’t retire into provincial obscurity. The police would assume I had fallen from favour, and think to please the Emperor by charging me with treason. I wish to serve you in any way I can, and moreover I am so far committed that I cannot draw back.’

  ‘I’m glad you have the sense to recognize it. We can always find work for a man who sees the world as it is. But if you are determined to remain a centurion you must do work fitting for a centurion. You can’t have it both ways. No more being one of us in private, and then standing to attention before Eutychianus because you are only a humble warrant officer.’

  ‘That will suit me, madam. Do me the justice to agree that I never sought greatness. I serve the Emperor as his private bodyguard because I have been detailed for that duty.’

  ‘That’s true. You will still be the Emperor’s private bodyguard. But in Rome you will live like a bodyguard, not like a minister of state. My plan is that you should lodge in the palace, but among the soldiers. You will not take post as a sentry, but the guard-room will be your living-room. You will parade as a supernumerary at the daily guard-mounting. There will be occasions when the Emperor will wish to leave the palace incognito, and then you will go with him and be responsible for his safety. But your real work,’ and here she smiled at me as at a confederate, ‘will be to keep in touch with the feelings of the Praetorians. I suppose the daily guard will accept you more or less as a comrade, and you can warn us if you think the army is discontented with the government. We do all we can to please the soldiers,’ she added with a sigh, ‘ but so did every Emperor who came before us. And look at how many of them were murdered by their guards!’

  ‘The soldiers make the Emperor, madam, so they think they have the right to unmake him. I don’t see how they reconcile it with their oath, but that’s how even honourable men see it. All the same, our present Emperor is extremely popular, and I don’t think you need fear any movement to overthrow him. I shall talk with the officers of the daily guard, and keep my ear to the ground. If I went to live in the Camp they would dislike me as a palace spy, but here in the guard-room a palace spy is to be expected. They won’t hold it against me. Neither will they say in front of me exactly what they are thinking. But I know soldiers, and I ought to be able to spot the beginning of discontent.’

  ‘Then that’s settled. You can have today off, to move into your new quarters. Tomorrow you parade at guard-mounting. You keep your centurion’s rate of pay, unless you want more. I expect the Emperor will give you presents from time to time, and you will live free at the palace. Does that suit you?’

  I saluted, and waited for permission to withdraw. But the Augusta had not finished with me.

  ‘There was something else,’ she said with a worried frown, ‘ but I can’t remember everything. This palace has to govern the civilized world, and all the work falls on me. It’s not woman’s work, but the Emperor is too young to manage by himself. Oh yes, I remember. You ought to be told a lot of things about the policy of the new government, so that you can explain it to the soldiers. But I can’t go into it now, and anyway it’s not clear in my head. Someone else must do it. Who is there? The Praetorian Praefect will be busy. The Clarissima can never explain anything to anyone. How a daughter of mine came by such a muddled mind I can’t understand. I know. Wait on the lady Mamea this afternoon, when she is supposed to be resting. Most of our plans were her ideas to start with, and she ought to be able to explain them. Now you may go.’

  That free day to settle into the palace was a more valuable privilege than perhaps the Augusta understood. My servant laid out my baggage and bedding in a cozy little chamber near the guard-room. I foraged for suitable furniture among the deserted attics, and made friends with cooks and butlers until my private store-cupboard was well stocked. I tipped a pretty housemaid to keep my room clean, for my servant would be fully occupied in looking after my armour. I knew my way about that numerous household; I could tell who gave promises that meant nothing and who could really make life easier. By the afternoon I had things organized so that I might live softly in the palace, without too much work, and, most important of all, without attracting attention.

  In the afternoon I waited in the ante-room of the lady Mamea, who had been given a distant self-contained wing where she might keep little Alexianus safe from the racket of the Emperor’s supper parties. I had a long wait for her; but when she arrived she saw me first, before the other petitioners.

  She sat behind a littered desk looking busy and worried and at the same time capable, like the commander of a strong garrison in a turbulent province. She smiled, and spoke politely; but she was very much the great lady instructing a common centurion. One might say that she was the only member of that court who was conscious of her dignity, and that she was too conscious of it. Though she was trying to be fair, she did not like me and considered my position deplorably irregular.

  ‘I understand you will be talking to the soldiers, Duratius,’ she began with a sniff of distaste. ‘All this pandering to the opinions of mere legionaries seems to be sadly un-Roman. It was the cudgel of the centurion that conquered the Empire, in the days when discontented soldiers were flogged. But I suppose we can’t go back to the good old days, in a world that grows steadily more wicked.’

  ‘When every citizen could fight, madam, the soldiers were kept in order. Nowadays no one dares to withstand them.’

  ‘There’s no need to rub it in, even though you are a soldier yourself. But if you are to influence their opinions which I consider a disgraceful concession, you must know what we want said to them. Pay attention. I don’t want to repeat this.’

  She picked up a paper, wrinkling her nose to read it.

  ‘In the first place, the Emperor is the heir to the legitimate Antonine house, which has ruled Rome for a hundred years. He is the son of the Divine Caracalla, who was the son of the Divine Severus, who had been adopted into the Antonine house by the Divine Commodus. No one is to say that we are founding a new dynasty.’ She glared at me severely, to see whether I would scruple to repeat this pack of barefaced lies. I nodded affirmatively.

  ‘This Emperor of the ancient line will reign after the ancient fashion. There will be no innovations,’ she continued with an even fiercer glare. ‘The Senate will be granted its due share in the administration. The Emperor will adhere to the sacred constitution bequeathed to us by our ancestors. Our policy will be peace on the frontiers, a generous and punctual stipend to the soldiers, and, if possible, a lightening of the burden of taxation. It is no secret that the Emperor nourishes a personal devotion to the Sun-god Elagabalus, but he will fulfil his public duty to Capitoline Jove and to the other ancient guardians of the Republic. The citizens will share in the general prosperity of the state. The restoration of the rightful dynasty will shortly be celebrated with unusually splendid Games, and a generous congiary to every citizen. The Emperor will immediately take in hand the completion of the public works begun by the Divine Caracalla, which were neglected during the tyranny of the usurper Macrinus. Finally, though perhaps the soldiers will not appreciate this, the Emperor has sworn that no subject shall be put to death, save after conviction in a lawful trial.’

  ‘You promise the return of the Golden Age, my lady,’ I said solemnly. ‘ May I add, while I am encouraging the troops, that the Augusta will spin wool for the imperial toga?’

  Mamea stared hard into my eyes and decided, wrongly, that I had not spoken ironically.

&n
bsp; ‘Avoid the subject of wool-spinning; though the Augusta Livia set the example long ago, and it would be well if we could follow it. The Emperor is reluctant to wear the customary toga. You may not know that the high priests of Emesa follow the Egyptian fashion, and consider it a defilement to wear clothing of animal origin. The Emperor wears only linen or silk. But we are getting a toga made for him, of especially thick linen, which we hope will look like the usual article.… Now I know you will be discreet, and I have given you your instructions. You will lay emphasis on the Emperor’s admiration for the ancient customs that made Rome great. You will not talk about his liking for charioteers. Gordius will live in the palace, but he holds no official post.’

  She turned back to her desk, and I realized that the interview was at an end.

  On the way to the guard-room I ran into the Clarissima, as usual walking vaguely about with a basket of something to eat and a handsome young man to carry it for her. ‘Ah, Duratius, isn’t it?’ she said as she saw me. ‘When you see the Emperor ask him to be sure to come to my sitting-room this evening. I want him to meet some young ladies. We must hold the wedding soon, before everyone leaves Rome to avoid the heat.’

  I saluted obediently. It would be no good telling her that I had not been commanded to wait on the Emperor, because she never listened to anything said to her.

  After I had greeted the guard-commander we talked about the weather and the crops. I had heard so many instructions, of such a startling novelty, that I thought it better to wait a bit before telling the world that we had a sound traditional Emperor of the old school.

 

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