When I arrived I could see that my mother was already fed up with Physcon. He had asked her to marry him again. She threatened to move out of the villa. “I’m not here to be besieged by him,” was how she said it to me.
To distract Physcon, Cornelia had invited Lucilius, Lucius Accius, the son of a freedman who had made a name for himself translating Greek poetry into Latin, and the stoic philosopher Panaetius. Aemilianus’ death had affected Panaetius so badly that he had decided to leave Rome and move to Athens. This would be his last circle in Italy. Cornelia decided to make it a celebration of his work.
There were two surprises while I was there. The first surprise came the day I arrived. Cornelia gave me a present for my fortieth birthday. It was a hand carved chair with two large wooden wheels on either side. I could propel it by turning the wheels with my hands. It allowed me to move around the villa without having to use my ankle or walk at all. It felt a little funny to have my own little cart, but it kept me off my feet and helped with the swelling and even allowed my ankle to strengthen somewhat.
The second surprise came the morning of the second day of the circle. Polybius arrived. Lucilius had invited him. He had declined at first then changed his mind.
As unsettled as I was by his arrival, I still needed to socialize with him as though it were nothing. With the excitable Lucilius and the celebrating Panaetius dominating the talk in both circles that day—one in the morning over a buffet lunch and one late in the afternoon—it was easy to be quiet. I had very little interaction with Polybius without appearing to avoid him.
Physcon’s chef prepared the evening meal—flamingo tongues sprinkled with paprika, peacock eggs poached in beer, sturgeon steaks, and wine from Sicily. Afterward the men gathered around the edge of the pool in the atrium and drank more wine. Claudia took her children to bed, and I slipped off to the edge of the garden with Cornelia. The sun was down. A yellow, nearly full moon sat above Vesuvius in the east. It was a pleasant evening with just a whisper of breeze. Cornelia stood gazing out at the heaving surf. I sat in my wonderful wheeled chair watching her.
“Physcon just got word from Egypt,” she said turning to face me. “His sister has hired the Seleucid king Demetrius II to break the siege. He’s leaving tomorrow.”
“You must be relieved.”
She smiled at the obvious. “I love the man, but I don’t want a husband or any of the things that go with living with Physcon.”
My stomach sank with the mere mention of the word husband. I was about to ask her if she had spoken to Polybius when he came out to the garden from the rear of the villa. “Lovely view you’ve got here, Cornelia.”
My mother smiled. “Good evening, Polybius. Did you enjoy the conversation today?”
“Very much. I hope you didn’t mind my arriving late.”
“Of course not.”
“Part of my reason for coming was to get some time alone with you and Sempronia. Do you have a few moments?” He looked at me with all the graciousness that was the man, but he appeared sad.
“What’s on your mind?” said Cornelia, perhaps feeling what was coming.
“I wanted to tell you about my investigation into Aemilianus’ death. Sempronia is already aware of it, but I’ve said nothing to you.”
Cornelia lifted her head.
“I believe Aemilianus was murdered—actually poisoned and strangled.”
Cornelia pretended to be surprised. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“I didn’t want your nephew’s legacy sullied by an ugly ending. Can you forgive me for that?”
“Of course, Polybius. It was for the better I’m sure. But why do you believe he was murdered and why are you telling me now?”
“I was the first to find his body. I think you already knew that. There were bruises on his neck. Marks left by the pressure of hands. I also smelled hemlock on his breath and in his empty cup.” He looked at the ground, then at me. “I recently found a source of hemlock in Rome.”
I looked to my mother. We both knew what was coming.
“It was an old woman. I found her in some little beggars’ community at the top of the Aventine Hill. She said she had sold some six weeks earlier to a woman with a bad limp.”
Tears were running down my cheeks. I gripped the wheels of my chair to keep my hands from shaking. I stuttered out a few sounds but Cornelia cut me off.
“I’ve known all along, Polybius, that you’ve been looking into Aemilianus’ murder. After the funeral, when you spent an afternoon talking with me, seemingly about Aemilianus and his life, you were probing me. It seems that you are about to tell Sempronia and me the result of your work.”
Polybius tried to respond, but Cornelia continued. “For fear that you might have made a mistake, I would like to save you the trouble of pointing a finger. It was I who chose to kill Aemilianus. I know he was your friend. I know he was a great man. But he denigrated my son politically and my daughter physically. I hired a man to poison him. The dose was too small and he had to strangle Aemilianus to end his life. I was sorry it came to that. I sent the man to Egypt and paid him to never speak of it.”
Polybius looked at me then back to Cornelia. The obvious question was who was the woman with the limp who bought the hemlock? For all I knew Polybius had searched my house while I was in Misenum and found the pouch beneath my bed. But Polybius did not ask the question. Instead he bowed to Cornelia and then to me and walked away.
At the time I was not certain if Polybius was sufficiently satisfied with what he had heard to stop his investigation. It was more likely he knew Cornelia was shielding me and had too much respect for her to say anything more about it, leaving one important question still up in the air—who strangled Aemilianus? Even if Polybius believed Cornelia’s story and felt he no longer needed to find that out, I did.
When I returned to Rome a week later, I went to my room and looked under the bed. The parcel of hemlock was gone. My first thought was Polybius, then I noticed a piece of one-folded papyrus beneath the mattress. I opened it up. It was a note in sloppily written Greek: Your secret is safe. However, when the time is right, a small favor will be requested. Polybius’ handwriting was immaculate. This was not from him. And none of my slaves could speak much less write Greek. I shuddered. My accomplice wanted something for his silence—probably money. Despite the confrontation in Misenum, Aemilianus’ death still trailed me like a shadow.
PART III
GAIUS
“Even after these events, problems in the court postponed the division of land for a very long time. Fulvius Flaccus proposed that all the Italian allies, who made the greatest resistance to redistribution, should be admitted to Roman citizenship so that, out of gratitude for the greater favor, they might no longer quarrel about the land. The Italians were ready to accept this, because they preferred Roman citizenship to possession of additional property, but the populace of Rome resisted.”
-Appian of Alexandria, Foreign Wars of Rome
CHAPTER 57
Nothing happened. Days, weeks, months, then a year went by with no word from whoever had written the note. For all I knew the perpetrator had left Rome or died. I never told anyone else about the note, and though the mystery ran through my thoughts every day, I hoped that the whole horrible episode had slipped into the past.
Another year went by. Lucius Aurelius Orestes and Marcus Aemilius Lepidus were elected co-consuls. Gaius, at twenty-six, was chosen to be Orestes’ quaestor. Not counting his placement on Tiberius’ land reform commission, quaestor was Gaius’ first elected position. Although the duties were primarily military, it marked a hesitant initial step into politics. That spring Gaius sailed with Orestes and two Roman legions to the island province of Sardinia to put down a revolt of the highland tribes. As quaestor, Gaius served as the consul’s top aide and managed all the documents associated with the campaign.
What Orestes had hoped would be a quick campaign did not turn out that way. The army was forced to stay
the entire year in Sardinia through an exceptionally severe and difficult winter, something they had not prepared for, leading to a shortage of warm blankets and winter capes for the soldiers. Orestes sent envoys to the local villages requesting help. Already inconvenienced by the presence of the Roman army, the Sardinians said they had no extra blankets or cloaks to spare. When Orestes continued to pressure them for assistance, a Sardinian envoy went to the Roman Senate asking that his people be excused from the burden. In response, the Senate castigated Orestes for not being prepared. Despite this rebuke, Gaius took it upon himself to go back to the small towns and villages to personally ask for help.
Through his own intense training Gaius had become a skilled orator. Rather than demanding winter clothing, he appealed to the Sardinians’ compassion by describing the conditions in the Roman camp and how little it would take to improve them. When given a choice instead of an order, the Sardinians responded with enough gifts to cover the army’s needs.
The following spring, with the campaign still incomplete, Orestes was prorogued for a second year in Sardinia. Gaius remained as his quaestor. The second summer went no better than the first, and the army was forced to stay yet another winter in Sardinia. This was one of the greatest drawbacks to military service. It could extend over several consecutive years in distant lands. Gaius did not see Licinia or his two young sons the entire time. Never anticipating that they would stay on the island that long, the army ran short of provisions, particularly wheat.
Gaius again felt this was a problem he could solve. He went to the Numidian king Micipsa requesting assistance. Micipsa, who had been a friend of our father’s, responded by sending several shipments of wheat to Sardinia at no cost. For a second time, Gaius saved Orestes’ army from a humiliating disaster through intelligent diplomacy and his gift for articulate expression.
Unfortunately, much like his brother’s treaty with the Numantians ten years earlier, Gaius’ actions were called inappropriate. He was covering for Orestes’ lack of preparation by appealing for gifts from others. An angry Senate recalled Orestes’ two legions and sent two more to replace them. Orestes, however, as punishment, was ordered to stay a third year in Sardinia. This meant his quaestor would do the same. No small part of this was the Senate’s lingering hatred of Tiberius, and the fear that Gaius would follow in his brother’s footsteps. They simply did not want another Gracchi in Rome because of the political issues then at play.
Gaius’ friend and fellow member of the land commission Marcus Fulvius Flaccus was halfway through his term as co-consul with Marcus Plautius Hypsaeus. In an effort to break the legal logjam surrounding land reform, Fulvius offered citizenship to all Italians and non-Roman Latins in exchange for giving up their objections to land reform, something they were completely willing to do. But the measure had to pass through the People’s Assembly, and the plebeians, much as they had when Aemilianus represented the non-citizen allies, felt threatened by the potential of so many new Roman citizens. The Senate also wanted no part of Fulvius’ citizenship plan for fear that a greater number of citizens would dilute their senatorial powers. The optimates were worried that Fulvius, aided by Gaius, could actually convince the People’s Assembly to pass the measure.
While in Sardinia, Gaius had received communication from both Papirius Carbo and Fulvius. He knew exactly what was happening and why he had been ordered to stay in Sardinia. The Senate was trying to shut him out of the work that his brother had begun. Rather than stay in Sardinia, he immediately left for Rome to protect his name and rejoin the land commission.
CHAPTER 58
Gaius returned to Rome in early fall just as Fulvius Flaccus’ plan for universal citizenship began to fall apart. The Senate had advised against it, and in the week prior to Gaius’ unannounced arrival, the People’s Assembly voted it down. Any concern that Gaius could turn the tide was put aside. The issue, however, was still of interest to Gaius, and on his third night in Rome, he invited Fulvius and Carbo to his home for dinner. I was not there that night, but Licinia sat quietly through the meal and filled me in on what was said.
Gaius, who still had little or no desire to enter into politics, was intrigued by the idea of citizenship for all of Italy. Carbo and Fulvius spent the evening recounting recent events, in what amounted to a convening of the land reform commission, from which Gaius had been absent for over two years.
“So Fulvius,” said Gaius, “you hoped to relieve pressure on the commission by giving our allies citizenship in exchange for recognizing our authority to redistribute land. Is that correct?”
“That’s only part of it,” answered Fulvius. “We believe that universal citizenship will eventually have to happen and that it would only strengthen Rome in the long run. It will increase the loyalty of our allies and relieve the ongoing shortage of citizen soldiers.”
“It’s failed for the time being,” added Carbo, “but we would like to readdress it at some time in the future. The key is convincing the People’s Assembly.” Carbo looked at Fulvius.
Fulvius was a powerfully built man with thick, curly brown hair and a full, untrimmed beard. He had been elected to the consulship because of his strong record in the military. He tended to use force as opposed to subtlety to get things done. It worked on the battlefield, but not as well in politics, and was probably the reason his citizenship bill had failed. Fulvius turned to Gaius. “We’re hoping to convince you to run for a position on the tribunate this winter. Your way with words is far superior to mine.”
“Or mine,” chimed in Carbo.
Gaius shook his head. “That’s not something I want to do. My position on the commission is more than enough politics for me.”
“It’s not politics at all,” said Carbo, “if the work is tied up in a court that no consul has the nerve to administer.”
“And never will,” said Fulvius. “I had a chance, but when I reviewed the cases, they made my head swim. There are too many suits and no easy solutions. Aemilianus might have thought he was solving the problem, but instead he effectively stopped all efforts to redistribute property. Land reform is not happening at all right now.”
“And with the vote last week, the Italian and Latin cities are angry. They want citizenship more than they want land. We started something that will have to come to a resolution one way or the other.”
Gaius looked at the two men. “What do you mean?”
“Fregellae is contemplating dropping out of the Latin Federation,” said Fulvius.
“They were one of our most loyal allies against Hannibal. How can that be?”
“The denial of citizenship was a slap in the face.”
“Yes, I imagine it was,” said Gaius.
“And you’re exactly what we need,” exclaimed Fulvius.
Gaius stared down at his empty plate, then looked to Licinia. “No more politics. I simply don’t want to get involved.”
“You might not want to run for a tribuneship, Gaius,” said Carbo, “but you’re already up to your neck in politics.”
“How so?”
“I heard it today. The censor’s going to accuse you of leaving your post without permission.”
Fulvius nodded slowly. “You’re still Orestes’ quaestor. And you’re here in Rome not Sardinia.”
“Even the populace, who see you as another Tiberius, were shocked to learn that you had returned to Rome without permission.”
Gaius looked at his wife and shook his head.
“You might not be seeking a magisterial position, but everything is politics in Rome these days. Everything,” said Fulvius. “Expect to be in court sometime this week.”
CHAPTER 59
Gaius was called to the forum to stand trial five days later. Two of his friends, Pomponius Atticus, whom he had known since childhood, and Laetorius Antonius, whom he had met in the military, went with him. Gaius’ personal slave Philocrates accompanied them. I had heard about the trial and wanted to watch. I went to the forum that morning in my litter.
Because of her knowledge of the courts, I asked Laelia to come with me.
Everyone in Rome knew about the trial, and because of the huge turnout, the hearing was moved from the forum to the well of the comitium. I had my bearers get as close to the proceedings as possible without Laelia and me being noticed.
It was November. The sun was out, but the day was cool. Large fluffy white clouds moved slowly across the sky. A senator Laelia identified as Popilius Laenus presided. He read the charges. “You, Gaius Sempronius Gracchus, left your position in Sardinia as quaestor to Lucius Aurelius Orestes without permission. You are accused of dereliction of duty. If you are found guilty the punishment is exile from Rome. I have been informed that you will represent yourself. You have this opportunity to defend your actions prior to my asking the jury for a judgment.”
Gaius wore a white toga over a belted white tunic. He had grown a full beard while in Sardinia but had trimmed it short for the trial. I doubt there was a more handsome man in Rome. The audience was primarily plebs, but a significant part of the Senate stood along the upper edge of the amphitheater as interested in the outcome as any faction in Rome.
“Friends, citizens of Rome, and honored members of the Senate,” Gaius began, scanning the huge audience, “many here believe that I should be in Sardinia today, not standing before you in the comitium, and in many ways I wish I were, but not because I feel the charges against me are true, but because what I must say to defend myself will call into question the actions of several men of significance, including a number of the praetors currently serving in Rome’s foreign provinces.”
Cornelia- the First Woman of Rome Page 21