No More Learning

He had settled the
war, he felt; the rest would be plain sailing. Or, perhaps, in such a
nature as his success only brought to light his greed and arrogance
and all his other dormant vices. While harrying Italy like a conquered
country, he courted the goodwill of his troops and used every word and
every action to pave his way to power. He allowed his men to appoint
centurions themselves in place of those who had fallen, and thus gave
them a taste for insubordination; for their choice fell on the most
turbulent spirits. The generals no longer commanded the men, but were
dragged at the heels of their caprices. This revolutionary system,
utterly fatal to good discipline, was exploited by Antonius for his
own profit. [129] Of Mucianus' approach he had no fears, and thus made
a mistake even more fatal than despising Vespasian. [130]

His advance, however, continued. As winter was at hand[131] and 50
the Po had inundated the meadows, his column marched unencumbered by
heavy baggage. The main body of the victorious legions was left
behind at Verona, together with such of the soldiers as were
incapacitated by wounds or old age, and many besides who were still in
good condition. Having already broken the back of the campaign,
Antonius felt strong enough with his auxiliary horse and foot and some
picked detachments from the legions. The Eleventh[132] had voluntarily
joined the advance. They had held back at first, but, seeing Antonius'
success, were distressed to think they had had no share in it. The
column was also accompanied by a force of six thousand Dalmatian
troops, which had been recently raised. The ex-consul, Pompeius
Silvanus,[133] commanded the column, but the actual control was in the
hands of a general named Annius Bassus.
Silvanus was quite ineffective
as a general, and wasted every chance of action in talking about it.
Bassus, while showing all due respect, managed him completely, and was
always ready with quiet efficiency to do anything that had to be done.
Their force was further increased by enlisting the best of the marines
from the Ravenna fleet, who were clamouring for service in the
legions. The vacancies in the fleet were filled by Dalmatians. The
army and its generals halted at Fanum Fortunae,[134] still hesitating
what policy to adopt, for they had heard that the Guards were on the
move from Rome, and supposed that the Apennines were held by troops.
And they had fears of their own. Supplies were scarce in a district
devastated by war. The men were mutinous and demanded 'shoe-money',[135]
as they called the donative, with alarming insistence. No provision
had been made either for money or for stores. The precipitate greed of
the soldiers made further difficulties, for they each looted what
might have served for them all.

I find among the best authorities evidence which shows how 51
wickedly careless were the victorious army of all considerations of
right and wrong. They tell how a trooper professed that he had killed
his brother in the last battle, and demanded a reward from his
generals. The dictates of humanity forbade them to remunerate such a
murder, but in the interests of civil war they dared not punish it.
They had put him off with the plea that they could not at the moment
reward his service adequately. And there the story stops. However, a
similar crime had occurred in earlier civil wars.