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Authors: Colleen McCullough

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

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BOOK: The First Man in Rome
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"But what other land is there to give away than the
ager publicus
?
Unless you intend that the State should buy more of it? Or acquire more of it? But that means finding money,'' said Philippus, still very uneasy.

"There's no need to be alarmed," said Marius. "The land concerned is already in Rome's possession. While ever I retain my proconsular imperium over Africa, it is in my province to nominate a use for land confiscated from the Enemy. I can lease it to my clients, or auction it to the highest bidder, or give it to some foreign king as a part of his domains. All I have to do is make sure the Senate confirms my dispositions."

Marius shifted, leaned forward, and continued. "But I have no intention of baring my arse for the likes of Metellus Numidicus to sink his teeth into, so I intend to go on as I have always gone on in the past—strictly according either to law, or general practice and precedent. Therefore on New Year's Day, I intend to yield up my proconsular imperium over Africa without giving Metellus Numidicus so much as a glance at my bare arse.

"All the main dispositions of territory I acquired in the name of the Senate and People of Rome have already been given senatorial sanction. But there is one matter I do not intend to broach myself. It is a matter so delicate, in fact, that I intend to accomplish my purpose in two separate stages. One this coming year, one the year after.

"Your job, Lucius Marcius, will be to implement the first stage. Briefly, I believe that if Rome is to continue fielding decent armies, then the legions must become an
attractive
career for a man of the Head Count, not just an alternative he is pushed to by patriotic zeal in emergencies, or boredom at other times. If he is offered the routine inducements—a
small wage and a small share in whatever booty a campaign produces—he may not be attracted. But if he is assured a piece of good land to settle on or sell up when he retires, the inducement to become a soldier is powerful. However, it cannot be land within Italy. Nor do I see why it should be land in Italy."

"I think I begin to see what you want, Gaius Marius," Philippus said, chewing at his full lower lip. "Interesting."

"I think so. I have reserved the islands in the Lesser Syrtis of Africa as places on which I can settle my Head Count soldiers after their discharge—which, thanks to the Germans, is not going to be for some time. This time I shall use to secure the People's approval for allocating land on Meninx and Cercina to my soldiers. But I have many enemies who will try to stop me, if for no other reason than that they've made whole careers out of trying to stop me," said Marius.

Philippus nodded his head up and down like a sage. "It is certainly true that you have many enemies, Gaius Marius."

Not sure that sarcasm underlay this remark, Marius gave Philippus a withering look, then went on. "Your job, Lucius Marcius, is to table a law in the Plebeian Assembly reserving the islands of the African Lesser Syrtis in the Roman
ager publicus
without lease or subdivision or sale unless by further plebiscites. You will not mention soldiers, and you will not mention the Head Count. All you have to do is—very casually and quietly—make sure that these islands are put into a storage cupboard well enough locked to keep greedy hands off them. It is vital that my enemies do not suspect that I am behind your little law."

"Oh, I think I can manage," said Philippus more cheerfully.

"Good. On the day that the law goes into effect, I will have my bankers deposit half a million denarii in your name in such a way that your change in fortune cannot be traced back to me," said Marius.

Philippus rose to his feet. "You have bought yourself a tribune of the plebs, Gaius Marius," he said, and held out a hand. "What is more, I shall continue to be your man throughout my political career."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Marius, shaking the hand. But as soon as Philippus had taken his leave, Marius sent for warm water, and washed both his hands.

"Just because I make use of bribery does not mean I have to like the men I bribe," said Gaius Marius to Publius Rutilius Rufus when he arrived in Cumae five days later.

Rutilius Rufus pulled a face of resignation. "Well, he was as true as his word," he said. "He authored your modest little agrarian law as if he'd thought of it all by himself, and he made it sound so logical that no one even argued for the sake of argument. Clever fellow, Philippus, in a slimy sort of way. Accorded himself laurels for patriotism by telling the Assembly that he felt some tiny, insignificant part of the great African land distribution ought to be saved—'banked' was the word he used!—for the Roman People's future. There were even those among your enemies who thought he was only doing it to irritate you. The law passed without a murmur."

"Good!" said Marius, sighing in relief. "For a while I can be sure the islands will be waiting for me, untouched. I need more time to prove the worth of the Head Count legionary before I dare give him a retirement gift of land. Can't you hear it now? The old-style Roman soldier didn't have to be bribed with a present of land, so why should the new-style soldier get preferential treatment?" He shrugged. "Anyway, enough of that. What else has happened?"

"I've passed a law enabling the consul to appoint extra tribunes of the soldiers without holding an election whenever a genuine emergency faces the State," said Rutilius.

"Always thinking of what tomorrow might bring! And have you picked any tribunes of the soldiers under your law?"

"Twenty-one. The same number who died at Arausio."

"Including?"

"Young Gaius Julius Caesar."

"Now that
is
good news! Relatives mostly aren't. Do you remember Gaius Lusius? Fellow my brother-in-law's sister Gratidia married?"

"Vaguely. Numantia?"

"That's him. Awful wart! But very rich. Anyway, he and Gratidia produced a son and heir, now aged twenty-five. And they're begging me to take him with me to fight the Germans. Haven't even met the sprog, but had to say yes all the same, otherwise my brother, Marcus, would never have heard the end of it."

"Speaking of your vast collection of relatives, you'll be pleased to know young Quintus Sertorius is at home in Nersia with his mother, and will be fit enough to go to Gaul with you."

"Good! As well Cotta went to Gaul
this
year, eh?"

Rutilius Rufus blew a rudely expressive noise. "I ask you, Gaius Marius! One ex-praetor and five backbenchers to form a delegation charged with reasoning with the likes of Caepio? But I knew my Cotta, where Scaurus and Dalmaticus and Piggle-wiggle did not. I had no doubt that whatever could be salvaged out of it, Cotta would."

"And Caepio, now he's back?"

"Oh, his chin's above water, but he's paddling mighty hard to stay afloat, I can tell you. I predict that as time goes on, he'll tire until only his nostrils are showing. There's a huge swell of public feeling running against him, so his friends on the front benches are unable to do nearly as much for him as they'd like."

"Good! He ought to be thrown into the Tullianum and left to starve to death," said Marius grimly.

"Only after hand-cutting the wood for eighty thousand funeral pyres," said Rutilius Rufus, teeth showing.

"What of the Marsi? Quietened down?"

"Their damages suit, you mean? The House threw it out of the courts, of course, but didn't make any friends for Rome in so doing. The commander of the Marsic legion— name's Quintus Poppaedius Silo—came to Rome intending to testify, and I'll bet you can't guess who was prepared to testify for him too," said Rutilius Rufus.

Marius grinned. "You're right, I can't. Who?"

"None other than my nephew—young Marcus Livius Drusus! It seems they met after the battle—Drusus's legion was next to Silo's in the line, apparently. But it came as a shock to Caepio when my nephew—who happens to be his son-in-law—put his name up to testify in a case which has direct bearing on Caepio's own conduct."

"He' s a pup with sharp teeth," said Marius, remembering young Drusus in the law court.

"He's changed since Arausio," said Rutilius Rufus. "I'd say he's grown up."

"Then Rome may have a good man for the future," said Marius.

"It seems likely. But I note a marked change in all those who survived Arausio," said Rutilius Rufus sadly. "They've not yet succeeded in mustering all the soldiers who escaped by swimming the Rhodanus, you know. I doubt they ever will."

"I'll find them," said Marius grimly. "They're Head Count, which means they're my responsibility."

"That's Caepio's tack, of course," said Rutilius Rufus. "He's trying to shift the blame onto Gnaeus Mallius and the Head Count rabble, as he calls that army. The Marsi are not pleased at being labeled Head Count, nor are the Samnites, and my young nephew Marcus Livius has come out in public and sworn on oath that the Head Count had nothing to do with it. He's a good orator, and a better showman."

"As Caepio's son-in-law, how can he criticize Caepio?" Marius asked curiously. "I would have thought even those most against Caepio would be horrified at such lack of family loyalty."

"He's not criticizing Caepio—at least not directly. It's very neat, really. He says nothing about Caepio at all! He just refutes Caepio's charge that the defeat was due to Gnaeus Mallius's Head Count army. But I notice that young Marcus Livius and young Caepio Junior aren't quite as thick as they used to be, and that's rather difficult, since Caepio Junior is married to my niece, Drusus's sister," said Rutilius Rufus.

“Well, what can you expect when all you wretched nobles insist upon marrying each other's cousins rather than letting some new blood in?" Marius demanded, and shrugged. "But enough of that! Any more news?"

"Only about the Marsi, or rather, the Italian Allies. Feelings are running high against us, Gaius Marius. As you know, I've been trying to recruit for months. But the Italian Allies refuse to co-operate. When I asked them for Italian Head Count—since they insist they've no propertied men left of an age for service—they said they had no Head Count either!"

"Well, they're rural peoples, I suppose it's possible," said Marius.

"Nonsense! Sharecroppers, shepherds, migrating field workers, free farm laborers—when has any rural community not had plenty of their like? But the Italian Allies
insist
there is no Italian Head Count! Why? I asked them in a letter. Because, they said, any Italian men who
might
have qualified as Head Count were now all Roman slaves, mostly taken for debt bondage. Oh, it is very bitter!" said Rutilius Rufus gravely. "Every Italian nation has written in strong terms to the Senate protesting at its treatment by Rome—not just official Rome, mark you, but private Roman citizens in positions of power too. The Marsi—the Paeligni—the Picentines—the Umbrians—the Samnites—the Apulians—the Lucanians—the Etrurians—the Marrucini—the Vestini—the list is complete, Gaius Marius!"

"Well, we've known there's trouble brewing for a long time," said Marius. "My hope is that the common threat of the Germans knits up our rapidly unraveling peninsula."

"I don't think it will," said Rutilius Rufus. "All the nations say that Rome has taken to keeping their propertied men away from home so long that their farms or businesses have fallen into bankruptcy from inadequate care, and all the men lucky enough to have survived a career fighting for Rome have come home to find themselves in debt to Roman landowners or local businessmen with the Roman citizenship. Thus, they say, Rome already owns their Head Count—as slaves scattered from one end of the Middle Sea to the other! Particularly, they say, where Rome needs slaves with agricultural skills—Africa, Sardinia, Sicily."

Marius began to look equally uneasy. "I had no idea things had come to such a pass," he said. "I own a lot of land in Etruria myself, and it includes many farms confiscated for debt. But what else can one do? If
I
didn't buy the farms, Piggle-wiggle or his brother, Dalmaticus, would! I inherited estates in Etruria from my mother Fulcinia's family, which is why I've concentrated on Etruria. But there's no getting away from the fact that I'm a big landowner there.''

[
FMR 556.jpg
]

"And I'll bet you don't even know what your agents did about the men whose farms you confiscated," said Rutilius.

"You're right, I don't," said Marius, looking uncomfortable. ' 'I had no idea there were so many Italians enslaved to us. It's like enslaving Romans!"

"Well, we do that too when Romans fall into debt."

"Less and less, Publius Rutilius!"

"True."

"I shall see to the Italian complaint the moment I'm in office," said Gaius Marius with decision.

Italian dissatisfaction hovered darkly in the background that December, its nucleus the warlike tribes of the central highlands behind the Tiber and Liris valleys, led by the Marsi and the Samnites. But there were other rumblings as well, aimed more at the privileges of the Roman nobility, and generated by other Roman nobles.

The new tribunes of the plebs were very active indeed. Smarting because his father was one of those incompetent generals held in such odium at the moment, Lucius Cassius Longinus tabled a startling law for discussion in a
contio
meeting of the Plebeian Assembly. All those men whom the Assembly had stripped of their imperium must also lose their seats in the Senate. That was declaring war upon Caepio with a vengeance! For of course it was generally conceded that Caepio, if and when tried for treason under the present system, would be acquitted. Thanks to his power and wealth, he held too many knights in the First and Second Classes in his sway not to be acquitted. But the Plebeian Assembly law stripping him of his seat in the Senate was something quite different. And fight back though Metellus Numidicus and his colleagues did, the bill proceeded on its way toward becoming law. Lucius Cassius was not going to share his father's odium.

And then the religious storm broke, burying all other considerations under its fury; since it had its funny side, this was inevitable, given the Roman delight in the ridiculous. When Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus had dropped dead on the rostra during the row about Gaius Marius's standing for the consulship
in absentia,
he left one loose end behind that it was not in his power to tie up. He was a
pontifex,
a priest of Rome, and his death left a vacancy in the College of Pontifices. At the time, the Pontifex Maximus was the ageing Lucius Gaecilius Metellus Dalmaticus, and among the priests were Marcus Aemilius Scaurus Princeps Senatus, and Publius Licinius Crassus, and Scipio Nasica.

BOOK: The First Man in Rome
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