History

And that into such doings strict investigation was made no man of good sense will find fault. For we do not deny that the safety of a lawful prince, the protector and defender of good men, on whom depends the safety of others, ought to be safeguarded by the united diligence of all men; and in order to uphold him the more strongly when his violated majesty is defended, the Cornelian laws exempted no one of whatever estate from examination by torture, even with the shedding of blood.

But it is not seemly for a prince to rejoice beyond measure in such sorrowful events, lest his subjects should seem to be ruled by despotism rather than by lawful power. And the example of Tully ought to be followed, who, when it was in his power to spare or to harm, as he himself tells us, sought excuses for pardoning rather than opportunities for punishing; and that is the province of a mild and considerate official.

At that same time in Daphne, that charming and magnificent suburb of Antioch, a portent was born, horrible to see and to report: an infant, namely, with two heads, two sets of teeth, a beard, four eyes and two very small ears; and this misshapen birth foretold that the state was turning into a deformed condition.

Portents of this kind often see the light, as indications of the outcome of various affairs; but as they are not expiated by public rites, as they were in the time of our forefathers, they pass by unheard of and unknown.

In these days the Isaurians, who had long been quiet after the acts of which an account is given above and the attempted siege of the city of Seleucia, gradually coming to life again just as snakes are wont to dart forth from their holes in the spring time, sallying forth from their rocky and inaccessible mountain fastnesses, and massed together in dense bands, were harrying their neighbours with thefts and brigandage, eluding the frontier-defences of our soldiers by their skill as mountaineers and from experience easily running over rocks and through thickets.

In order to quiet them by force or by reason, Lauricius was sent as governor with the added rank of count; being a man skilled in statesmanship, he corrected many evils by threats rather than by actual severity, so that for a long time, while he governed the province, nothing occurred which was thought deserving of punishment.

Such was the course of events throughout Illyricum and the Orient. But in Britain in the tenth consulship of Constantius and the third of Julian raids of the savage tribes of the Scots and the Picts, who had broken the peace that had been agreed upon, were laying waste the regions near the frontiers, so that fear seized the provincials, wearied as they were by a mass of past calamities. And Julian, who was passing the winter in Paris and was distracted amid many cares, was afraid to go to the aid of those across the sea, as Constans once did (as I have told), for fear of leaving Gaul without a ruler at a time when the Alamanni were already roused to rage and war.

Therefore he decided that Lupicinus, who was at that time commander-in-chief, should be sent to settle the troubles either by argument or by force; he was indeed a warlike man and skilled in military affairs, but one who raised his brows like horns and ranted in the tragic buskin (as the saying is), and about whom men were long in doubt whether he was more covetous or more cruel.

Therefore, taking the light-armed auxiliaries, to wit the Aeruli, the Batavians, and two companies of Moesians, in the dead of winter the leader aforesaid came to Boulogne, and after procuring ships and embarking all his troops, he waited for a favourable breeze and then sailed to Richborough, which lay opposite, and went on to London, intending there to form his plans according to the situation of affairs and hasten quickly to take the field.

While this was going on, Ursicinus, after the storming of Amida, had returned to the emperor’s service as commander of the infantry; for, as I have said, he succeeded Barbatio. There he was met by detractors, who at first spread whispered slanders, then openly added false charges.

These the emperor, since he judged most matters according to his prejudices and was ready to listen to secret attackers, took seriously and appointed Arbitio and Florentius, master of the offices, to investigate as judges the reasons for the destruction of Amida.

These men rejected the evident and plausible reasons, and fearing that Eusebius, then head chamberlain, would take offence if they admitted evidence which clearly showed that what had happened was the result of the persistent inaction of Sabinianus, they turned from the truth and examined into trivial matters far remote from the business in hand.

The accused, exasperated at this injustice, said: Although the emperor despises me, the importance of the present business is such, that it cannot be examined into and punished, except by the judgement of the prince; yet let him know, as if from the words of a seer, that so long as he grieves over what he has learned on no good authority to have happened at Amida, and so long as he is swayed by the will of eunuchs, not even he in person with all the flower of his army will be able next spring to prevent the dismemberment of Mesopotania.

When this had been reported and much had been added in a malicious light, Constantius was angered beyond measure; and without sifting the matter or allowing the details of which he was ignorant to be explained, he ordered the victim of the calumnies to give up his command in the army and go into retirement. And by an extraordinary advancement Agilo, a former tribune of the household troops and of the targeteers, was promoted to his place.

At that same time, throughout the regions of the East the heaven was seen to be overcast with dark mist, through which the stars were visible continually from the first break of day until noon. It was an additional cause of terror when the light of heaven was hidden and its orb removed utterly from the sight of the world, that the timorous minds of men thought that the darkening of the sun lasted too long; but it thinned out at first into the form of the crescent moon, then growing to the shape of the half-moon, and was finally fully restored.

This phenomenon never takes place so clearly as when the moon, after its shifting courses, brings back its monthly journey to the same starting-point after fixed intervals of time; that is to say, when the entire moon, in the abode of the same sign of the zodiac, is found in a perfectly straight line directly under the sun, and for a brief time stands still in the minute points which the science of geometry calls parts of parts.

And although the revolutions and movements of both heavenly bodies, as the searchers for intelligible causes had observed, after the course of the moon is completed, meet at one and the same point always at the same distance from each other, yet the sun is not always eclipsed at such times, but only when the moon (by a kind of fiery plumb-line) is directly opposite the sun and interposed between its orb and our vision.

In short, the sun is hidden and his brightness suppressed, when he himself and the orb of the moon, the lowest of all the heavenly bodies, accompanying each other and each keeping its proper course, maintaining the relation of height between them and being in conjunction, as Ptolemy wisely and elegantly expresses it have come to the points which in Greek we call ἀναβιβάζοντας and καταβιβάζοντας ἐκλειπτικοὶ σύνδεσμοι (that is, eclipse nodes). And if they merely graze the spaces adjacent to these nodes, the eclipse will be partial.

If, on the other hand, they stand in the nodes themselves which closely unite the ascent and the descent, the heaven will be overcast with thicker darkness, so that because of the density of the air we cannot see even objects which are near and close at hand.

Now it is thought that two suns are seen, if a cloud, raised higher than common and shining brightly from its nearness to the eternal fires, reflects a second brilliant orb, as if from a very clear mirror.

Let us now turn to the moon. Then only does she suffer a clear and evident eclipse, when, rounded out with her full light and opposite the sun, she is distant from its orb by 180 degrees (i.e. is in the seventh sign). But although this happens at every full moon, yet there is not always an eclipse.

But since the moon is situated near the movement of the earth, and is the most remote from heaven of all that celestial beauty, she sometimes puts herself directly under the disc that strikes upon her, and is overshadowed and hidden for a time by the interposition of the goal of darkness ending in a narrow cone; and then she is wrapped in masses of darkness, when the sun, as if encompassed by the curve of the lower sphere, cannot light her with its rays, since the mass of the earth is between them; for that she has no light of her own has been assumed on various grounds.

And when under the same sign she meets the sun in a straight line, she is obscured (as was said) and her brightness is wholly dimmed; and this in Greek is called the moon’s σύνοδος.

Now she is thought to be born, when she has the sun above her with a slight deviation from the plumbline, so to speak. But her rising, which is still very slender, first appears to mortals when she has left the sun and advanced to the second sign. Then having progressed farther and now having abundant light, she appears with horns and is called μηνοειδής. But when she begins to be separated from the sun by a long distance and has arrived at the fourth sign and the sun’s rays are turned towards her, she gains greater brilliance, and is called in the Greek tongue διχόμηνις, a form which shows a half-circle

Then, proceeding to the greatest distance and attaining the fifth sign, she shows the figure called amphicyrtos, and has humps on both sides. But when she has taken a place directly opposite the sun she will gleam with full light, making her home in the seventh sign; and still keeping her place in that same sign, but advancing a little she grows smaller, the process which we call ἀπόκρουσις ; and she repeats the same forms as she grows old, and it is maintained by the unanimous learning of many men that the moon is never seen in eclipse except at the time of her mid-course.

But when we said that the sun had its course now in the ether and now in the world below, it must be understood that the heavenly bodies (so far as the universe is concerned) neither set nor rise, but that they seem to do so to an eyesight whose fixed situation is on the earth; this is kept hanging in space by some inner force and in its relation to the universe is like a tiny point; and that now we seem to see the stars, whose order is eternal, fixed in the sky, and often through the imperfection of human vision we think that they leave their places. But let us now return to our subject.

When Constantius was hastening to lend aid to the Orient, which was likely soon to be disturbed by the inroads of the Persians, as deserters reported in agreement with our scouts, he was tormented by the valorous deeds of Julian, which increasingly frequent report was spreading abroad through the mouths of divers nations, carrying the great glory of his mighty toils and achievements after the overthrow of several kingdoms of the Alamanni, and the recovery of the Gallic towns, which before had been destroyed and plundered by the savages whom he himself had made tributaries and subjects.

Excited by these and similar exploits, and fearing that their fame would grow greater, urged on besides, as was reported, by the prefect Florentius, he sent Decentius, the tribune and secretary, at once to take from Julian his auxiliaries, namely, the Aeruli and Batavi and the Celts with the Petulantes, as well as three hundred picked men from each of the other divisions of the army; and he ordered him to hasten their march under the pretext that they might be able to be on hand for an attack on the Parthians early in the spring.

for speeding the departure of the auxiliaries and the divisions of three hundred Lupicinus alone was called upon (for that he had crossed over to Britain was not yet known at court); but the order to select the most active of the targeteers and the gentiles and personally lead them to the emperor was given to Sintula, then Julian’s chief stable-master.

Julian kept silence and submitted to this, leaving everything to the will of his more powerful associate. One thing, however, he could neither overlook nor pass over in silence, namely, that those men should suffer no inconvenience who had left their abodes beyond the Rhine and come to him under promise that they should never be led to regions beyond the Alps; for he declared that it was to be feared that the barbarian volunteer soldiers, who were often accustomed to come over to our side under conditions of that kind, might on having knowledge of this thereafter be kept from so doing. But his words were to no purpose.

For the tribune, considering Caesar’s remonstrances of little moment, carried out the orders of Augustus, chose the strongest and most active of the light-armed troops, and made off with them, while they were filled with hope of better fortunes.

And because Julian was anxious as to what ought to be done about the remaining troops which he had been ordered to send, and turned over many plans in his mind, he decided that the business ought to be managed with circumspection, pressed as he was on one side by savage barbarians and on the other by the authority of the emperor’s orders; and since the absence of his commander of the cavalry in particular increased his uncertainty, he urged the prefect to return to him; the latter had gone some time before to Vienne, ostensibly to get supplies, but actually to escape troubles in the camp.

For he bore in mind that it was in accordance with his own report, which he was thought to have sent some time before, that warlike troops, already formidable to the barbarians, were to be withdrawn from the defence of Gaul.

So when he received Julian’s letter, urging and begging him to hasten to come and aid his country by his counsels, he most emphatically refused; for his mind was disturbed with fear for the reason that Julian’s letter plainly indicated that the prefect ought never to be separated from his commander in the stress of dangerous times. And Julian added that if Florentius hesitated to do his duty, he would himself of his own accord lay down the emblems of princely power, thinking it more glorious to meet death by order, than that the ruin of the provinces should be attributed to him. But the obstinate resolution of the prefect prevailed, and with the greatest emphasis he refused to obey these reasonable demands.

However, amid this delay of the absent Lupicinus and of the prefect, who feared mutinies of the soldiers, Julian, deprived of the aid of counsellors and wavering in anxious hesitation, thought the following plan the best: he called out all the soldiers in the usual manner from the posts in which they were passing the winter, and arranged to hasten them on their way.

Scarcely was this known, when someone in the camp of the Petulantes secretly threw on the ground a libellous letter, which among many other things contained the following: We verily are driven to the ends of the earth like condemned criminals, and our dear ones, whom we freed from their former captivity after mortal battles, will again be slaves to the Alamanni.

When this note was brought to headquarters and read, Julian, although he found the complaints reasonable, nevertheless ordered them to set out with their families for the Orient, giving them the privilege of using the wagons of the courier-service. And when there was considerable hesitation as to what route they should take, it was decided, at the suggestion of the secretary Decentius, that they should all go by way of Paris, where Julian still lingered, having as yet made no move. And it was so done.

And when the soldiers arrived Caesar met them in the suburbs, and, in his usual manner praising those whom he personally knew, and reminding each one of his valiant deeds, with mild words he encouraged them to go with cheerful step to Augustus, where there was great and extensive power, and they would get worthy rewards for their toil.

And in order to treat with greater honour those who were going far away, he invited their officers to dinner and bade them make any request that was in their minds. And since they were so liberally entertained, they departed anxious and filled with twofold sorrow: because an unkindly fortune was depriving them both of a mild ruler and of the lands of their birth. But though possessed by this sorrow, they were apparently consoled and remained quiet in their quarters.

But no sooner had night come on than they broke out in open revolt, and, with their minds excited to the extent that each was distressed by the unexpected occurrence, they turned to arms and action; with mighty tumult they all made for the palace, and wholly surrounding it, so that no one could possibly get out, with terrifying outcries they hailed Julian as Augustus, urgently demanding that he should show himself to them. They were compelled to wait for the appearance of daylight, but finally forced him to come out; and as soon as they saw him, they redoubled their shouts and with determined unanimity hailed him as Augustus.

He, however, with unyielding resolution, opposed them one and all, now showing evident displeasure, again begging and entreating them with outstretched hands that after many happy victories nothing unseemly should be done, and that ill timed rashness and folly should not stir up material for discord. And when he had at last quieted them, with mild words he addressed them as follows:

Let your anger, I pray you, cease for a time. Without dissension or attempts at revolution what you demand shall easily be obtained. And since it is the charm of your native land that holds you back and you dread strange places with which you are unacquainted, return at once to your homes; you shall see nothing beyond the Alps, since that is displeasing to you, and this I will justify to Augustus to his entire satisfaction, since he is willing to listen to reason and is most discreet.

After this the shouts continued none the less on every side, and since all insisted with one and the same ardour and with loud and urgent outcries mingled with abuse and insults, Caesar was compelled to consent. Then, being placed upon an infantryman’s shield and raised on high, he was hailed by all as Augustus and bidden to bring out a diadem. And when he declared that he had never had one, they called for an ornament from his wife’s neck or head.

But since he insisted that at the time of his first auspices it was not fitting for him to wear a woman’s adornment, they looked about for a horse’s trapping, so that being crowned with it he might display at least some obscure token of a loftier station. But when he declared that this also was shameful, a man called Maurus, afterwards a count and defeated at the pass of Succi, but then a standard-bearer of the Petulantes, took off the neck-chain which he wore as carrier of the dragon and boldly placed it on Julian’s head. He, driven to the extremity of compulsion, and perceiving that he could not avoid imminent danger if he persisted in his resistance, promised each man five gold pieces and a pound of silver.

When this was done, troubled with no less anxiety than before and with quick intuition foreseeing the future, he neither wore a diadem, nor dared to appear anywhere or attend to any of the serious matters that were most pressing.

But when he had withdrawn to seclusion and retirement, alarmed by the change in his fortunes, one of the decurions of the palace, which is a position of dignity, hastened at rapid pace to the camp of the Petulantes and Celts, and wildly cried that a shameful crime had been committed, in that the man whom the day before their choice had proclaimed Augustus had been secretly done to death.

Upon hearing this the soldiers, who were equally excited by all news, known to be true or not, some brandishing darts, others with naked swords and uttering threats, rushing forth from different sides and in disorder (as is usual in a sudden commotion) quickly filled the palace. The fearful uproar alarmed the guards, the tribunes, and the count in command of the household troops, Excubitor by name, and in fear of treachery from the fickle soldiers they scattered in dread of sudden death and vanished from sight.

The armed men, however, seeing the perfect quiet, stood motionless for a time, and on being asked what was the cause of the ill-advised and sudden commotion, they kept silence for a long time, being in doubt as to the new emperor’s safety; and they would not leave until they were admitted to the council chamber and had seen him resplendent in the imperial garb. These preserved order and acted as adjutants to the emperor.

Yet, hearing of these events the troops also that had gone before under the lead of Sintula (as I have said), now free from anxiety returned with him to Paris. Then proclamation was made that on the following day all should assemble in the plain, and the ruler appeared in greater state than common and took his place on the tribunal, surrounded by the standards, eagles, and banners, and for greater safety hedged about with bands of armed cohorts.

And after a brief silence, during which from his high position he surveyed the faces of those present, on finding them all eager and joyous, using simple words in order to be understood, he stirred them as by the blare of clarions, speaking as follows:

The difficulties of the situation, ye brave and faithful defenders of my person and of the state, who with me have often risked your lives for the welfare of the provinces, require and entreat, since by your firm resolve you have advanced your Caesar to the pinnacle of all human power, that I should touch briefly on a few matters, in order to devise just and wise remedies for those changed conditions.