They then joined
forces and occupied Tarracina,[156] which owed its strength more to
its walls and situation than to the character of its new garrison.
forces and occupied Tarracina,[156] which owed its strength more to
its walls and situation than to the character of its new garrison.
Tacitus
For it was open to him to cross the Apennines and with his
full strength unimpaired to attack the enemy while they were worn out
with cold and hunger. But by breaking up his forces he sent his
keenest soldiers, stubbornly loyal to the last, to be killed or taken
prisoner. The more experienced of his centurions disapproved of this
policy and would have told him the truth, if they had been consulted.
But the emperor's intimates refused them admittance. He had, indeed,
formed a habit of regarding wholesome advice as unpleasant, and
refusing to listen to any that was not agreeable, and in the long run
fatal.
In civil war individual enterprise counts for much. The mutiny of 57
the fleet at Misenum had been engineered by Claudius Faventinus, a
centurion whom Galba had dismissed in disgrace. To obtain his object
he had forged a letter from Vespasian promising rewards for treachery.
The admiral, Claudius Apollinaris,[154] was neither a staunch loyalist
nor an enthusiastic traitor. Accordingly Apinius Tiro, an ex-praetor,
who happened to be at Minturnae,[155] offered to take the lead of the
rebels. They proceeded to win over the colonies and country towns.
Puteoli in particular was strong for Vespasian, while Capua remained
loyal to Vitellius, for they dragged their local jealousies into the
civil war. To pacify the excited troops Vitellius chose Claudius
Julianus, who had lately been in command of the fleet at Misenum and
had allowed lax discipline. To support him he was given one cohort of
the city garrison and the force of gladiators already serving under
him. The two parties encamped close to one another, and it was not
long before Julianus came over to Vespasian's side.
They then joined
forces and occupied Tarracina,[156] which owed its strength more to
its walls and situation than to the character of its new garrison.
When news of this reached Vitellius, he left part of his force at 58
Narnia[157] with the prefects of the Guard,[158] and sent his brother
Lucius with six regiments of Guards and five hundred horse to cope
with the threatened outbreak in Campania. His own nervous depression
was somewhat relieved by the enthusiasm of the troops and of the
populace, who clamoured loudly for arms. For he dignified this
poor-spirited mob, which would never dare to do anything but shout, by
the specious titles of 'the army' or 'his legions'. His friends were
all untrustworthy in proportion to their eminence; but on the advice
of his freedmen he held a levy for conscription and swore in all who
gave their names. As their numbers were too great, he gave the task of
selection to the two consuls. From each of the senators he levied a
fixed number of slaves and a weight of silver. The knights offered
money and personal service, while even freedmen volunteered similar
assistance. Indeed, protestations of loyalty prompted by fear, had
gradually changed into real sympathy. People began to feel pity, not
perhaps so much for Vitellius as for the throne and its misfortunes.
He himself by his looks, his voice, his tears made ceaseless demands
upon their compassion, promising rewards lavishly and, as men do when
they are frightened, beyond all limits. He had hitherto refused the
title of Caesar,[159] but he now expressed a wish for it. He had a
superstitious respect for the name, and in moments of terror one
listens as much to gossip as to sound advice. However, while a rash
and ill-conceived undertaking may prosper at the outset, in time it
always begins to flag. Gradually the senators and knights deserted
him. At first they hesitated and waited till his back was turned, but
soon they ceased to care and openly showed their disrespect.
full strength unimpaired to attack the enemy while they were worn out
with cold and hunger. But by breaking up his forces he sent his
keenest soldiers, stubbornly loyal to the last, to be killed or taken
prisoner. The more experienced of his centurions disapproved of this
policy and would have told him the truth, if they had been consulted.
But the emperor's intimates refused them admittance. He had, indeed,
formed a habit of regarding wholesome advice as unpleasant, and
refusing to listen to any that was not agreeable, and in the long run
fatal.
In civil war individual enterprise counts for much. The mutiny of 57
the fleet at Misenum had been engineered by Claudius Faventinus, a
centurion whom Galba had dismissed in disgrace. To obtain his object
he had forged a letter from Vespasian promising rewards for treachery.
The admiral, Claudius Apollinaris,[154] was neither a staunch loyalist
nor an enthusiastic traitor. Accordingly Apinius Tiro, an ex-praetor,
who happened to be at Minturnae,[155] offered to take the lead of the
rebels. They proceeded to win over the colonies and country towns.
Puteoli in particular was strong for Vespasian, while Capua remained
loyal to Vitellius, for they dragged their local jealousies into the
civil war. To pacify the excited troops Vitellius chose Claudius
Julianus, who had lately been in command of the fleet at Misenum and
had allowed lax discipline. To support him he was given one cohort of
the city garrison and the force of gladiators already serving under
him. The two parties encamped close to one another, and it was not
long before Julianus came over to Vespasian's side.
They then joined
forces and occupied Tarracina,[156] which owed its strength more to
its walls and situation than to the character of its new garrison.
When news of this reached Vitellius, he left part of his force at 58
Narnia[157] with the prefects of the Guard,[158] and sent his brother
Lucius with six regiments of Guards and five hundred horse to cope
with the threatened outbreak in Campania. His own nervous depression
was somewhat relieved by the enthusiasm of the troops and of the
populace, who clamoured loudly for arms. For he dignified this
poor-spirited mob, which would never dare to do anything but shout, by
the specious titles of 'the army' or 'his legions'. His friends were
all untrustworthy in proportion to their eminence; but on the advice
of his freedmen he held a levy for conscription and swore in all who
gave their names. As their numbers were too great, he gave the task of
selection to the two consuls. From each of the senators he levied a
fixed number of slaves and a weight of silver. The knights offered
money and personal service, while even freedmen volunteered similar
assistance. Indeed, protestations of loyalty prompted by fear, had
gradually changed into real sympathy. People began to feel pity, not
perhaps so much for Vitellius as for the throne and its misfortunes.
He himself by his looks, his voice, his tears made ceaseless demands
upon their compassion, promising rewards lavishly and, as men do when
they are frightened, beyond all limits. He had hitherto refused the
title of Caesar,[159] but he now expressed a wish for it. He had a
superstitious respect for the name, and in moments of terror one
listens as much to gossip as to sound advice. However, while a rash
and ill-conceived undertaking may prosper at the outset, in time it
always begins to flag. Gradually the senators and knights deserted
him. At first they hesitated and waited till his back was turned, but
soon they ceased to care and openly showed their disrespect.
