No More Learning

Alfenus Varus, the
camp-prefect, then hit upon the plan of forbidding the centurions to
go the rounds or to have the bugle sounded to summon the men to their
duties. No one had anything to do: they eyed each other in
astonishment, dismayed above all at having no one to command them. At
first by silent submission, at last with tearful prayers, they sought
pardon. Valens appeared, haggard and in tears, but above all
expectation safe and sound,--joy, sympathy, cheers! With a wild
revulsion of feeling--mobs are always extravagant--they made a ring
round him with the eagles and standards, and carried him to the
Tribunal with loud praises and congratulations. With wise moderation
he demanded no punishment, but, to disarm suspicion of his good
faith, he criticized one or two of them severely. [279] He was well
aware that in civil war the men are allowed more licence than their
officers.

While they were entrenching themselves at Ticinum they heard the 30
news of Caecina's defeat, and the mutiny nearly broke out afresh:
Valens, they thought, had treacherously delayed in order to keep them
out of the battle. They refused rest, would not wait for the general,
marched on in front of the standards, hurrying on the bearers, and by
a forced march joined Caecina. Valens had a bad name with Caecina's
army. They complained that despite their greatly inferior numbers he
had exposed them to the full force of the enemy. At the same time, for
fear of being despised as defeated cowards, they excused themselves by
exaggerating the strength of the new arrivals. In fact, though Valens'
numbers were larger, and he had almost twice as many legionaries and
auxiliaries as Caecina,[280] yet it was Caecina who enjoyed the
confidence of the men. Apart from his kindness, in which he seemed
much readier than Valens, they admired him for his youthful vigour and
commanding stature,[281] and liked him too without exactly knowing
why. So there was rivalry between the generals.
Caecina mocked at
Valens for his dirty and dishonest ways:[282] Valens at Caecina's
pompous vanity. But they smothered their dislike and worked together
for a common end, writing frequent letters in which they sacrificed
all hope of pardon and heaped abuse on Otho. Otho's generals refrained
from retaliating upon Vitellius, though his character offered richer
scope. In death Otho earned a noble name and Vitellius infamy, yet 31
at this time people were more afraid of Otho's burning passions than
of Vitellius' listless luxury. The murder of Galba had made Otho
feared and hated, while no one attributed to Vitellius the outbreak of
the war. It was felt that Vitellius' gluttony was a personal disgrace:
Otho's excesses, his cruelty and his daring, spelt more danger to the
country.

Now that Caecina and Valens had joined forces, the Vitellians had no
longer any reason to avoid a decisive battle. Otho accordingly held a
council to decide whether they should prolong the war or put their
fortune to the test. Suetonius Paulinus, who was considered the 32
most experienced general of his day,[283] now felt it was due to his
reputation to deliver his views on the general conduct of the war. His
contention was that the enemy's interests were best served by haste,
Otho's by delay. He argued thus: 'The whole of Vitellius' force has
now arrived and he has few reinforcements in his rear, for the Gallic
provinces are in a ferment, and it would be fatal to abandon the Rhine
with all those hostile tribes ready to swarm across it. The troops in
Britain are busy with their own foes and cut off by the sea: the
Spanish provinces can scarcely spare any troops: the Narbonese are
seriously alarmed by their recent reverse and the inroads of our
fleet. The country across the Po is shut in by the Alps and denied all
supplies by sea,[284] and, besides, its resources have been already
exhausted by the passage of their army. Nowhere can they get supplies,
and without commissariat no army can be kept together. The German
troops are their strongest fighting arm, but their constitutions will
not be strong enough to stand the change of weather, if we protract
the war into the summer. It has often happened that a force, which
seemed irresistible at first, has dwindled to nothing through the
tedium of forced inaction.