Marcus Aurelius Betrayed (19 page)

“When there has been a trial and a decision, the facts are already a matter of record, and lawyers for both sides argue their cases in front of the Emperor and his assessors. The Emperor then decides the case. The second situation is where the facts are not yet a matter of record. Then a hearing or trial has to be held, either before the Emperor or first before a special judge – a
judex selectus
. The special judge will then hear the evidence and reach a verdict from which an appeal may or may not be allowed. If it is, then the appeal will be argued by lawyers before the Emperor.”

“But our situation is somewhere in the middle, isn’t it?” said Flaccus. “We had court proceedings and heard evidence in Alexandria, but the trial wasn’t over and there hasn’t been a verdict.”

“In fact,” added Proculus, “there really has been no defense case, particularly if several witnesses are coming to Rome and haven’t yet been heard from, like Serpentinus and Philogenes. Not to mention those witnesses we think are going to change their testimony.”

“So what should be the procedure?” asked Flaccus.

“I’m not sure,” replied Severus. “Maybe a
judex selectus
will be appointed to hear the evidence that hasn’t yet been presented and to render a verdict. Then an
appellatio
before the Emperor can go forward. On the other hand, the Emperor may wish to interrogate the witnesses himself. That was the preference of the Emperor Hadrian, in his time.”

“One thing is clear,” added Proculus, “Secundus is the defendant. But who will be the prosecutor. Who is bringing the charges against him?”

“There is no one else but me,” replied Severus. “I will have to be the prosecutor.”

The next step was to find out whether there would be a special judge assigned to hear the rest of the evidence, or whether the Emperor would prefer to hear the witnesses himself, dispensing with the
judex selectus
. There hadn’t been any word of a special judge being selected, but Severus knew if one were chosen, the choice would be made by the head of the Bureau of Judicial Affairs – the
a cognitionibus
– who was also in charge of the Emperor’s court. Severus did not know him personally and so could hardly approach him about the matter. But he did know the Urban Prefect, Quintus Junius Rusticus, who had recommended him to the Emperor in the first place to go to Egypt and look into the situation there. Rusticus might know or be able to find out whether there was to be a special judge or not.

Severus therefore sent a long message to the Urban Prefect explaining the situation and asked for a meeting to discuss the procedure that would be followed in Secundus’
appellatio
to the Emperor. Two days later the Urban Prefect agreed to meet Severus to discuss the matter. Rusticus suggested Severus come to his home in the afternoon, two days later. Rusticus said he would be sponsoring a lecture in the auditorium of his home by the Skeptic philosopher Favorinus and Severus was cordially invited to attend and bring friends as well. Their meeting would take place after the talk.

Rusticus added that the lecture would be in Greek and the topic was ‘Against the Chaldeans.’

“I suppose,” explained Severus to his wife and Alexander, who were dining with him that night, “that Rusticus wants as many people to attend the lecture as possible.”

“The topic appears to portend one of Favorinus’ attacks on astrology,” she answered. “Astrology is what the Chaldeans are famous for, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” joined in Alexander, “and I want to go to the talk, if I may.”

“You both can come. After all, it’s a very controversial topic and a lot of people are offended by attacks on astrology. So maybe that’s why we were asked to come. Getting people there might be somewhat difficult.”

Two days later Severus with Artemisia and Alexander went to the Urban Prefect’s
domus
, an urban villa on the Caelian Hill, not far from their
insula
apartment house. They walked and arrived amidst a gathering of litters bearing other guests to the talk. At the entrance, Severus ran into his friend from student days in Athens, Aulus Gellius.

“I’m going to take notes,” said Gellius, after exchanging greeting kisses and cordialities with both Severus and Artemisia, “and include this talk in my book.”

“Are you still writing
Attic Nights
?” asked Severus. “I remember you starting it when we were students in Athens years ago. I thought you might be finished by now.”

“I don’t know when I’ll ever finish it, really. It’s a collection of things I find interesting, and I keep on coming across new things to include. This is just one of them. Anyway, Favorinus is a good friend, and I love hearing him talk and I know already that what he’s going to say will be interesting and controversial.”

Inside Rusticus greeted the guests, thanked them for coming and had a slave escort them to his auditorium. He told Severus that he had spoken to the Emperor about
the procedure for the upcoming
appellatio
and would discuss it with him after the talk.

The set up of the auditorium was similar to other private auditoria for public readings. There was a dais with a chair for the speaker, special armchairs in front for higher ranking guests and benches behind for others in attendance. Severus and Artemisia were shown to armchairs while Alexander was directed to a seat on one of the benches. The room filled up quickly and slaves distributed
libelli
– programs with information about the speaker and his topic.

The programs said Favorinus was from Arles in Gaul and famous for his vast learning and erudition in both Greek and Latin literature and culture. It mentioned he had come to prominence during the reign of Hadrian and recalled a famous quip he had made. When asked why he resisted contradicting a statement by Hadrian when he could have easily have done so, Favorinus said it was foolish to criticize the logic of the master of 30 legions. Eventually, though, he incurred Hadrian’s displeasure and was exiled to the island of Chios. However, he was rehabilitated when Antoninus Pius became Emperor and returned to Rome where he wrote, lectured and taught many upper class Romans.

Favorinus came on to the dais dressed in a gray Greek philosopher’s mantle. Most striking however was his peculiar appearance. He was an albino with strange white hair and he was a hermaphrodite. People couldn’t tell by his looks whether he was male or female and when first seeing him were often shocked or laughed in derision. But at the Urban Prefect’s home, fear of offending a powerful host overcame visceral reactions. Everyone kept a straight face, some with difficulty.

Favorinus began with an interesting statement that it was “completely foolish and absurd” to think that just because “the tides of the ocean correspond with the course of the Moon that the Heavens govern who wins a lawsuit about an aqueduct”. Much less should we believe that “all human affairs” are governed by the stars and planets. Knowledge about the Heavens was “not at all certain”. For instance, there might be more planets than the seven known ones, but men cannot see them because of their “excessive height.”

Moreover, the circuits of the heavens take long numbers of years to complete, even ages, so how could anyone know the actual influence of past configurations if it is impossible to observe the repetitions? And different stars are visible from different places on Earth because of its round shape, so people born at the same time must therefore be born under different configurations of the stars and planets depending on their location. So how could their fate be the same?

And how could it be that the fate of people who died at the same time, for instance in an earthquake or the sack of a city, could all have the same fate even though born in different places and at different times under different stellar configurations?

Furthermore, one configuration of the Heavens was present at the time of conception and another at birth, so which one was supposed to foretell the person’s character or future?

But, urged Favorinus, it was most intolerable to believe the idea that an individual’s beliefs, attractions and aversions, feelings on important or trivial matters, were excited or influenced by the Heavens. Suppose, Favorinus asked, someone wanted to go to the Baths,
then changed his mind, then decided to go again, could this ebb and flow be controlled by the planets and stars? If so, men would not be reasoning beings, but a species of “ludicrous and ridiculous puppets”.

And, he also asked, if the life and death of men were subject to the Heavens, what about the lives of flies, worms, frogs, gnats and sea urchins? Did they have fates assigned to them by the constellations? Why should the power of the stars be effective with people and ineffective with other animals?

Astrology, he warned, was simply a way for charlatans and sycophants to gain our confidence and take advantage of our credulity for their own profit. Sometimes, he said, they might hit upon something true “by chance or cleverness”, but these “are not a thousandth part of the falsehoods which they offer up.”

After the talk, Severus met with the Urban Prefect in the library of his
domus
.

“Interesting, wasn’t it?” said Rusticus. “Food for thought.”

“I agree with everything he said,” replied Severus, “and have ever since I was about 4 years old.”

“How did that come about?”

“I had an older brother who told me there were no gods and that astrology was nonsense. Since he was 11 at the time, I thought he must know.”

Rusticus laughed.

“And when I grew up,” continued Severus, “and examined those questions for myself, I found no reason to change my mind. Even if the gods did exist, I would never worship beings whose behavior I would despise in people.

“However, I do admit to being superstitious.”

“As are we all,” replied Rusticus ruefully. “But tell me how did your 11-year-old brother come to
his
opinion about these matters?”

“I don’t know really. Maybe he was precocious. But also he was by nature rebellious. So when our parents and everyone else told him to believe in the gods and things like astrology, he would do the opposite. And when he got older and examined things for himself, as a thoughtful person he found no reason to change his mind.”

“Well, I’m a Stoic and believe that
logos
– Reason, pervades the Universe and that we ourselves are endowed with a measure of that Reason. And Favorinus makes reasoned arguments, so we can only hope that his words will encourage people to use their Reason and at least be skeptical.”

“I doubt it,” replied Severus. “People believe in astrology because they want to, because they think it helps them ‘understand’ their lives and the world and answers questions that there are no answers to. And I don’t think any number of philosophers like Favorinus or logical arguments will change that.”

“A gloomy prospect. But probably you’re right. Anyway, let me tell you what the Emperor told me about the
appellatio
.”

Severus looked at him with renewed interest.

“The Emperor does not want to have a
iudex selectus
appointed to hear the so-called new evidence. He has read the documents you submitted with your report to him, as well as a report sent to him by Secundus’ lawyer. He wants to hear and interrogate the witnesses himself. In my opinion he’s a very good judge of people. I know
some say he’s too pedagogical, but really he’s a kind and friendly person. He’s firm without being stubborn, reserved but not timid and serious but not gloomy.”

“You admire him greatly, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. You know he’s the Emperor of the world, but he denigrates fame. Can you imagine? A Roman Emperor denigrating fame. He says future fame is really worthless because it depends on a succession of short-lived men with little knowledge even of themselves, let alone of someone who died long ago.

“In any event, Severus, he said he has faith in your integrity and you will not need any
advocatus
to represent you but yourself.”

Rusticus gave him a big smile, which Severus happily returned.

On the way home Severus looked at his wife as if to ask what she thought of Favorinus’ talk, a look she readily understood.

“You know,” she said to him, “Favorinus’ talk could make someone skeptical about astrology. But I’m a true skeptic. I’m also skeptical about Favorinus.”

XXX

THE PREFECT AND HIS ENTOURAGE ARRIVE IN ROME

S
traton was at the docks in Ostia waiting for the arrival of the
Isis
from Alexandria. The ship was already late, overdue by two days. Straton was dressed in an ordinary brown undyed tunic, hardly distinguishable from any number of poor citizens and slaves wearing exactly the same garb. This included the person standing next to him, an undercover agent of the Praetorian Guard named Titus Velleius. He was there for the same reason as Straton, to observe the arrival of the Prefect of Egypt and his entourage. They were, of course, people of interest to Judge Severus, who had sent Straton to observe their coming. But once the Praetorian Guard heard about Claudius Celer’s report -- of the criticisms of the Emperors in the letter from the aide of General Avidius Cassius on the Persian front to Secundus in Alexandria -- they became interested in these people as well.

Marcus Aurelius, it turned out, made light of the General calling him a “philosophizing old woman” and Lucius Verus “a freak of extravagance.” Aurelius
thought it was not a threat nor were the disparaging sentiments unique, as he well knew. In any case, thought the Emperor, the state needed Avidius Cassius right now. He had whipped the eastern legions back into shape and was leading the counterattack against the Persians. The Praetorian Guard, however, was always suspicious of criticism of the emperor they were charged with guarding.

The guardsman Velleius wanted Straton to recognize and point out Calvus’ entourage to him when they arrived.

The day was overcast and cloudy, the sea air bracing and the great port humming with activity. It was full of ships of every kind, hundreds of them from almost every land, both commercial and military, from huge superfreighters with more than 10,000 tons capacity to sleek warships. Ships were constantly coming in and going out. Huge derricks – or ‘storks’, as they were called – lifted cargo on and off decks, while stevedores, both slaves and freemen, were working everywhere. Most were operating in teams and often singing songs as they worked. Clerks were also everywhere, recording everything, every item loaded or off-loaded, keeping the copious records of a record-keeping civilization. But they were doing their jobs silently, without singing, though sometimes with muttering.