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by Alfred Duggan


  ‘For one thing, we should have had to look for a new Emperor,’ I said crossly. ‘My lord, you mustn’t play with these things. The civilized world has been given to you, let us say by the god Elagabalus. You owe a duty to your subjects. The Roman army cannot be commanded by a eunuch. You yourself wouldn’t really like being a eunuch. Enjoy what you have, which is a very great deal. Even you can’t have everything.’

  ‘No, I can’t have everything,’ he answered wistfully. ‘But if only I could control my mind I might be able to experience everything. That’s what I try to do. I want to be the Emperor, and the high priest of Elagabalus. But I want also to be a porter on holiday, and a poor man selling cabbages, and a virgin bride, and an ardent young husband, and a poor old harlot working when she’s ill because the rent must be paid. I want to be all my subjects, a painted Briton and a black Ethiopian and a Cappadocian wrapped in yards and yards of linen trousers. I want to feel the whole civilized world beating in my heart. But I can’t do it. I can’t be a priest of Cybele. Her servants are driven by some mighty force, which you have seen at work tonight. It is a force I shall never experience.’

  ‘You control your mind very well already, my lord,’ said I, answering the only part of this harangue that I could understand. ‘You know how the Romans expect you to behave in public, and that is how you behave even though it’s against the grain. I suppose the only Emperor who could always control his mind was the Divine Marcus Aurelius. He put it on record for publication that he had known moments of happiness, but I don’t think you would enjoy the kind of life he led. I wouldn’t.’

  ‘There’s the voice of common sense. No wonder the Augusta approves of you, Duratius. But if I behave well in public I must have my relaxation in private. This is a private occasion, and Gordius is waiting for me. Tell these rascals that they have my permission to withdraw, and then go to bed yourself. Tomorrow you can watch me offer sacrifice to Capitoline Jove. Not a fold out of place in my toga, not a glimmer of intelligence in my eye, the model Roman magistrate. Until then, good-bye.’

  During his first eighteen months in Rome the Emperor did in fact behave very well in public. There were stories about queer goings-on in the private apartments of the palace, and they happened to be true. But stories about queer goings-on in the palace are current under the most blameless Emperors; and everyone believes them whether they are true or false.

  Elagabalus was dignified in the Senate and reverent in the temples, and always kind and merciful. Soldiers sometimes bullied the citizens, but in other respects the law was justly enforced; and no one has been able to control the soldiers since the Divine Severus taught them to know their strength. His rule deserved to be popular, and it was popular.

  After his sixteenth birthday he found the constant advice of the Augusta more irksome. His public behaviour remained correct, but he spent more and more of his time at extremely incorrect private parties. What irked him most was that his grandmother tried to reform his sexual habits. Poor little Paula was still a virgin, neglected in a distant wing of the palace; though her nominal husband gave her a large household and an ample revenue, and saw to it that she was treated with the respect due to the consort of an Emperor.

  The Augusta was still convinced that if only her grandson would sleep with a woman he would find it more enjoyable than his adventures with boys. She recognized that the shy Paula lacked charm, and tried to tempt him with more handsome bodies. When an enterprising dealer imported the most famous Alexandrian courtesan for sale in the Roman market the Augusta bought her for a very large sum. Shortly afterwards the Emperor found this Cleonime in his bed. He turned her out at once, though he would not permit Gordius to beat her. Instead he gave orders that she should be well looked after, in some part of the palace where he would not often encounter her; and at his next party she had the job of holding up a large seven-wick lamp, standing naked on a pedestal like a statue. The Emperor made a little speech in praise of her beauty, and invited all his friends to admire it; but at his command a chain had been fastened round her loins, as a sign that henceforth no man might touch her.

  The crisis that was to change the religious life of Rome broke unexpectedly. One afternoon during the second winter of our stay Eutychianus put his head round the door of the guardroom. We sprang to our feet, and then hesitated; by rights the guard should turn out for the Praetorian Praefect, but it was impossible to double smartly through the door while the officer we were to honour was himself blocking it.

  ‘Stand easy, the guard,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I told the sentry I am invisible this afternoon, so you mustn’t blame him. There you are, Duratius. I want a word with you, wait for me in my office. Not my office in the Camp, of course, but the cubby-hole I have squeezed out of the majordomo of this madhouse.’

  Eutychianus had the right touch with Praetorians. He kept us up to the mark, but he never let us forget that we were superior to all civilians.

  I was the first to reach the office, though soon it began to fill up. The Emperor arrived next, arm-in-arm with Hierocles; he remarked gaily that he was always incognito after lunch, and made me sit down on the hard wooden bench beside him.

  Then there was a commotion as footmen brought in padded chairs for the Clarissima and the lady Mamea. Young Alexianus came with his mother, and stood deferentially in the background until the Emperor commanded him to share our bench.

  When the Augusta swept in on the arm of the Praetorian Praefect we all sprang to our feet. She sank into the Clarissima’s chair; the Clarissima darted like lightning for the chair of the lady Mamea, who scowled with fury and sat down on the end of the bench. Eutychianus remained standing, evidently because he was about to address the council.

  ‘My lord, tell that charioteer to get out before I throw him out,’ he said genially. ‘This is a private meeting of your most eminent supporters, and we have called in Duratius to give expert evidence about the feelings of the troops. But I don’t think Hierocles can tell us anything we don’t know already. Do you agree?’

  ‘If this is a business meeting Hierocles must go,’ answered the Emperor with a smile. ‘ He’s ornamental, but not at all useful. Run away, my pet. But you had better produce really important business. I don’t like being parted from my friends in the little time I have free from boring public ceremonies.’

  ‘It’s important enough,’ said Eutychianus. ‘The first dangerous conspiracy of the reign. I’m surprised it has been so slow in coming. A good many respectable Romans don’t like us.’

  The Clarissima gave a little shriek, either because she was really frightened or because she thought a shriek the appropriate comment.

  ‘If the conspiracy has been uncovered it is no longer dangerous,’ said the Augusta with a sniff. ‘Tell us the facts, and stop trying to make us jump.’

  ‘Very well. Here are the facts,’ Eutychianus continued. ‘A wealthy and respected Consular named Seius Carus had been tampering with the Alban Legions. A sound opening move. The Alban Legions are privileged above the ordinary frontier garrisons, but they are not quite the equals of the Praetorians. Therefore they may be expected to be jealous of us. They are men who would be willing to march on Rome and overthrow the government, and good troops who might defeat us. But Carus was too impatient. It’s not three years since those soldiers murdered their commander to come over to the gallant Emperor Elagabalus, and they are still under the spell of our ruler’s more than human charm and beauty. Most of the men took his money and then reported everything to the secret police. The revolt was planned to start this morning, but we had been warned. I have just learned that it was easily suppressed. A few desperate men took the Eagle from the regimental chapel, Carus and his friends mounted the tribunal to harangue them. Then loyal troops arrested the rebels. Those are all the facts I know. What are the Emperor’s instructions?’

  But as he asked for instructions he looked not at the Emperor but at the Augusta.

  ‘Were all the rebels arrested? Were none kille
d?’ asked the lady Mamea swiftly.

  ‘All arrested, madam. They expected the troops to follow them, and were taken by surprise. Odd, in a way. If I were in Carus’s shoes I would kill myself rather than face torture. Now that’s the point on which I want instructions. These people wouldn’t have started their plot unless they were sure of support from the Senate. If we torture them we shall drag out all kinds of admissions and half-promises, until we have incriminated every prominent Senator in Rome. On the other hand, while the troops are loyal no Senator will dare to move on his own. Shall we kill the guilty straight away, and not inquire too curiously into their backers?’

  ‘We must find out all we can …’ began the Augusta slowly, but the Emperor interrupted his grandmother.

  ‘You forget, Eutychianus. You have forgotten a promise I made to my sky-stone, when I first achieved the Purple. I have repeated it, too, in public, so honour as well as religion compels me to keep it. I have sworn that not one of my subjects shall be put to death save after a fair trial in open court. The mutineers will be tried by the army, Carus by the Senate. Since they were caught in the act it will be easy to prove them guilty. I want just enough evidence for that, and no more. No torture, no probing after hidden accomplices. We all know that the Senators would wish success to any rebellion against me. What of it? They can’t hurt me. Leave them in peace.’

  ‘That’s merciful. I’m proud of you. What a noble example for Alexianus,’ said the lady Mamea with a simper.

  The Augusta uttered a little wail. ‘I tried so hard to make them like us. I sat in the Senate, looking dignified even when my shoes hurt. Dear Soaemias talked and talked in that dreary assembly of matrons. I chose your consort from one of the best families in Rome. You climb up and down that steep Capitol and poke about in the messy insides of sacrificial victims, just because it’s the right thing and expected of you. And after all that they still despise us as Syrians and foreigners.’

  The Emperor sprang to his feet.

  ‘That’s enough, grandma. They despise us, and we despise them. Henceforth they shall feel my contempt. I’m sick of ruling like a true son of Romulus. That wasn’t what gained me the Purple. I am Emperor because the soldiers love me, and I can manage without the love of the gentry. Instead they shall fear me. My oath holds, I shan’t kill the scoundrels. But I shall make them grovel, and grovel in public. Perhaps this has come upon us because we neglected the sky-stone, who gave me my luck. From tomorrow the Sun-god Elagabalus shall rule in Rome. And his high priest will show these fusty pedants how their traditions are valued by the soldiers who rule the Empire, and by the Emperor who rules the soldiers.’

  11. The Emperor and the Gods

  The Emperor was as good as his word. Even after this dangerous conspiracy there was no hunt for hidden traitors; the police were held in leash, and the only arrests were of open rebels. These were granted a public trial, and condemned on the evidence of disinterested eye-witnesses; so there was no need to torture them before they appeared in open court. The mutineers were convicted by court martial and immediately beheaded. Carus and the two Senators who had abetted him were tried by the Senate. These accomplices were respectable noblemen, Pomponius Bassus and Silius Messala; it seemed to me sinister that the lady Mamea should be a close friend of Bassus, but nobody else mentioned it and it was not my duty to draw attention to the curious fact. It is difficult to serve for long in the army without being drawn into spying, but during the whole of my service I managed to avoid it.

  The three leading rebels were treated with great indulgence. After the opening speech for the prosecution, which showed them that there was no hope of acquittal, the Senate adjourned for lunch; the prisoners were permitted to kill themselves during the adjournment. Thus they died unconvicted and their property descended to their heirs, instead of being confiscated. In particular Annia Faustina, Bassus’s widow, lived in great prosperity and continued her close friendship with the lady Mamea.

  With the opening of the new year the Emperor put into effect his new policy. The unfortunate Paula was released from the palace; she went back to her parents an untouched virgin, and I don’t know what became of her afterwards. The Emperor had given her an unpleasant time, but that was chiefly the fault of the Augusta. He had not harmed her. He never harmed any of his subjects.

  Meanwhile the temple of Capitoline Jove had been put into order to receive a new tenant. On the great day of the move I was one of the escort of senior centurions who guarded the sky-stone with drawn swords. I had taken some trouble to get on that guard for I guessed, rightly, that soldiers forming the guard of honour would not be ordered to join in the ritual dancing.

  The procession was modelled on a Triumph, with the sky-stone in the triumphal car. Priests from Emesa took the place of the army (there were nearly enough of them to make up a legion). The Senate and the curule magistrates marched in their accustomed places, as though they were escorting the Emperor after a victory. That left no place for the Emperor himself; naturally, since for more than 200 years a Triumph had been granted only to the reigning Emperor. My lord had devised his own duties in this new ritual. The triumphal car was drawn by the usual four white stallions, but the presence of that perky little sky-stone on a tall padded stool made the vehicle too holy for a human driver to share it. The Emperor controlled the horses from in front, leading them by the bridle. Since he refused to turn his back on his god he must walk backwards all the way. Gordius and Hierocles walked on either side of him, to support his elbows and warn him of stones in the road that might make him stumble; but only a really skilled driver like the Emperor Elagabalus could have controlled four fiery stallions from such an awkward posture.

  The rite concluded with compulsory dancing for nearly everyone, as I had feared at the outset. With the other soldiers I was spared the indignity. I found it most enjoyable to watch grave Senators, and Consulars, and even the Flamen Dialis who hated it most of all, dancing in their robes of office to honour that obscene fragment of black stone. A great crowd drawn from the lower classes peered in through the open doors of the temple to mock their betters. Never, since the Divine Augustus first showed himself to be their master, had the magistrates of the Republic been so deeply and publicly humiliated.

  Like every other responsible supporter of the government I had been very much afraid of the effect of this recognition of a new, foreign god. In fact it delighted the City mob, and outside Rome no one cared one way or the other. Some Romans still feel a fondness for the old rituals which have come down from the ancestors, but hardly anyone truly believes in the gods of Olympus; even the few who worried at the insult offered to Jupiter felt their worry outweighed by joy at the insult offered to the nobility.

  The Emperor was intoxicated with exaltation when he saw his god supreme and unquestioned in Rome. Every morning he honoured the sky-stone with stately dances, and with hecatombs of birds collected from the ends of the earth. (It had been revealed to him that birds were the most appropriate offering to the sun.) But it was the rash interference of the Augusta that set him off on his next prank.

  His grandmother had not yet lost hope of persuading him to marry and beget an heir. She did not believe that any young man could be indifferent to the charms of a really beautiful woman. The second-rate harlots of provincial Nicomedia had failed to rouse him, the shy and maidenly Paula would appeal only to a weary sophisticated taste; but she had the money, and the authority, to collect the most attractive concubines in the world, concubines whom no man could resist. Once he had learned how to enjoy a woman he could be led on to enjoy a young lady, chosen by his elders as a suitable consort for an Emperor.

  Only five days after the installation of the sky-stone a messenger summoned me to one of the Emperor’s private supper-parties. It was late, and I was already going to bed; but the Emperor liked to surprise his guests by a sudden invitation. My valet dressed me and I followed the messenger, expecting to be led through long passages to one of the outlying pavilions.<
br />
  To my surprise, since it was the depth of winter, I found a litter waiting to take me to the imperial gardens on the Pincian. This pleasure ground is more of a private park than a garden, a great space of grass and tall trees and flowering shrubs, dotted with grottoes and little houses. The Divine Caracalla had kept his hundreds of concubines in it; for it is securely walled, with only two gates, and set on a hill where it cannot be overlooked.

  More chariot-racing, I thought with a sigh of boredom. I had seen the Emperor drive elephants, and after that chariots strangely drawn could not amuse me.

  The high-walled garden was a blaze of light, and all the stable boys were there in force. I was glad to see one or two of the younger gentry, nobles who had always been fond of debauchery and now considered it sound tactics to copy the Emperor; though when he had played at being respectable they had been even more respectable than he. A few adults would make the evening pass more pleasantly; there is nothing more deadly dull than being the only grown-up at a party of boys pretending to be men.

  I found the Emperor warming himself at a brazier; for it was cold and he wore the dress of a charioteer, cloak and boots and cap and only a breech-clout in between. He had taken enough wine to make him speak rather loudly, but he was still firm on his legs. He greeted me boisterously.

  ‘Duratius at last! Now we can begin. I suppose you were snuggled down into your virtuous bed, the only bed in the palace designed to hold one only… I want your opinion of a new sport I have just invented. First I must explain that the Augusta provided the raw material. It’s not the kind of thing I would spend my own money on. But since these creatures are here in the gardens, eating their heads off, we may as well use them. Come along and look at the new race track.’

 

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