Claudius Carried to the Camp

Claudius, as I said above, had become separated from Gaius’s party on the way. The household was in an uproar over the dreadful news of Caesar’s death, and he was at a loss how to save himself. He was found to have hidden himself in a certain narrow passage, though he had no reason to suspect any danger except the nobility of his birth. For as a private man he had conducted himself with moderation and was content with what he had. He gave himself to learning, especially Greek learning, and kept himself entirely clear of everything that might lead to any disturbance. At this time, however, panic had seized the crowd, the whole palace was full of the soldiers’ madness, and even the emperor’s bodyguards were in the same fear and disorder as private persons. So the force called the praetorian, which is the choicest part of the army, was in council over what was to be done. All those present at this council thought little of Gaius’s punishment, since his fortune had come upon him justly. They were considering rather their own position, how they might best provide for it, especially while the Germans were busy punishing the murderers—though they did it more to gratify their own savagery than for the good of the public. All these things alarmed Claudius, and he feared for his life, especially since he had seen the heads of Asprenas and the others carried past. He was standing in a certain spot reached by a few steps, where he had withdrawn into the darkness. Gratus, one of the soldiers of the palace, caught sight of him. Because of the darkness he could not make out his face well enough to know who he was, but he could well judge that it was a man lurking there. He came nearer, and when Claudius asked him to go away, he pressed on, caught hold of him, and recognized him. He said to those who were following him, “This is a Germanicus! Come on, let us carry him off and make him our emperor.” When Claudius saw them getting ready to carry him off by force, he was afraid they would kill him as Gaius had been killed. He begged them to spare him, reminding them how inoffensively he had behaved and that he had known nothing beforehand of what had been done. At this Gratus smiled, took him by the right hand, and said, “Stop thinking so small about saving your life, sir. You ought to be thinking great thoughts, of gaining the empire, which the gods, out of their care for the inhabited world, have taken from Gaius and handed over to your virtue. Come, then, and take the throne of your ancestors.” So they lifted him up and carried him, because he could not walk on his own feet, such was his fear, and his joy at what was told him. [a]

A great number of the bodyguards had by now gathered about Gratus. When they saw Claudius being led off, they looked downcast, supposing he was being dragged to punishment for what had lately been done, though they regarded him as a man who had never meddled in public affairs all his life, and who had met with no small dangers under the rule of Gaius. Some of them thought the judgment about him should be referred to the consuls. As more and more of the soldiers came together, the crowd around him fled, and Claudius could hardly go forward, his body was so weak; for the men who carried his litter had run off to save themselves when he was seized, giving up all hope that their master would survive. But when they came into the open space of the Palatine—which, the story goes, was the first part of the city of Rome to be inhabited—and had just reached the public treasury, many more soldiers flocked about him. They were glad to see Claudius’s face, and thought it very right to make him emperor because of their affection for Germanicus, who was his brother and had left behind a great name among all who had known him. They also reflected on the greed of the leading men of the senate, and on how badly it had gone wrong when the senate held the government before. They considered, too, that what the senate was attempting was impossible; and that if the whole power came again into one man’s hands, they would be in danger if it fell to someone they had done nothing to raise up, rather than to Claudius, who would receive it as their gift, won by their goodwill, and would remember their favor and repay them with honors enough to match it. [d]

These things the soldiers talked over among themselves, and they told them to everyone who came up. Those who heard gladly accepted the invitation to join them. So they closed in around Claudius as his guard, and lifting him up they carried him into the camp, so that nothing would hold back their haste. The people and the senators, however, were divided in their opinions. The senators longed to recover their former dignity, and were eager, now that the moment offered, to escape the slavery that the insolence of the tyrants had brought on them. But the people were envious of the senate. They knew that the emperors were a curb on its greed and a refuge for themselves, and they were glad that Claudius had been seized. They supposed that if he were made emperor, he would spare them a civil war like the one in the days of Pompey. When the senate learned that the soldiers had brought Claudius into the camp, they sent to him men of their own body known for their virtue, to tell him that he ought not to use force to take hold of the government. Being one man, he ought to give way to a senate of so many, and to leave to the law the care of public order. He should remember how the former tyrants had afflicted the city, and what dangers he himself had shared with them under Gaius; and since he had hated the heavy weight of tyranny when others were committing the outrage, he should not himself willingly dare to outrage his country in drunken insolence. If he obeyed them and showed that the virtue of his former quiet life was steadfast, there would be for him the honors that free citizens could vote; and by giving way to the law he would win praise for virtue both as a ruler and as one ruled. But if he acted madly and learned no self-control from Gaius’s death, they would not allow him to go on. For a great part of the army had come over to them, with plenty of weapons and a great number of slaves whom they could use. Hope and fortune counted for much in such matters, and the gods fight on the side of none but those who carry on their struggles with virtue and honor—and those are the men who fight for the liberty of their country. [e]

The envoys were Veranius and Brocchus, both of them tribunes of the people. They made this speech, and falling at Claudius’s knees they begged him not to plunge the city into wars and evils. But when they saw how great a body of soldiers fenced Claudius about, and that the consuls were nothing in comparison with him, they added that if he wanted the government, he should accept it as given by the senate. For he would hold it with better omens and greater happiness if he took it up not by violence but by the goodwill of those who gave it. [h]