Gaul but throughout the entire Empire, and due notice of his methods was beginning to be taken in the capital.
Just as significant, perhaps, were his legal reforms, which were in sharp contrast to accepted practice. Exasperated in his attempts to find a sufficient quantity of judges and local governors whose abilities conformed to his standards of education and fairness of mind, he finally resorted to trying cases himself. This began to be a burden, however, for his time during the winter months began to be increasingly taken up with the settlement of minor property disputes and dowry claims. Toward springtime, when it was known that he would be departing on a certain date for a season of campaigning against the barbarians, individuals seeking redress would throng to the palace, imploring him to hear their case before he left, lining up in the corridors and down the steps into the street. They left him no peace even by night, when particularly brash or desperate claimants would sometimes station themselves close to his windows, and shout or sing their pleas and defense in carefully crafted verse, in an effort to attract his attention to their cause.
Since he clearly had no time to make personal investigations of each matter, he would often refer cases to the provincial prefects and governors, and then upon his return follow up on the outcome of the various suits. It did not help his privacy when it became known that he would often mitigate the penalties that had been handed down by his appointees through sheer kindliness.
Finally, out of pure desperation to regain a bit of his former privacy and time, he limited himself to hearing only cases that were of extreme importance or prominence, and since these cases were naturally the most widely followed, his reputation for personalized sentences became even more widespread. I recall specifically the case of Numerius who had recently been the appointed governor of Gallia Narbonensis, on the southern littoral. He had been accused by his enemies of embezzlement, and Julian determined to hear the case himself, which he allowed to be open to all. In an effort to set an example, he conducted the hearings and testimony with unusual severity, often grilling the witnesses himself. Numerius put up an airtight defense, however, and was ultimately acquitted, to much rejoicing among his supporters. The sharp-tongued prosecutor Delphidius, who had traveled all the way from Rome for the chance to participate in such a famous case, became exasperated at the lack of evidence in his favor, and at one point of the trial addressed the bench with a bitter question. 'Mighty Caesar,' he said, 'how can anyone be found guilty if it is sufficient for him merely to deny the charges?' A hush fell over the crowded courtroom as Julian flushed red in anger at the man's impertinence. He stood up and stared imperiously at Delphidius, who for a moment stood his ground and then began to shrink back against the wall behind him. 'And how,' Julian thundered, 'can anyone be acquitted if a mere accusation is all that is required to convict him?'
It was about this time, when his involvement in the functioning of the courts was at its height, that old Eutherius the eunuch made a remark that, as much as any, may have contributed to the subsequent unfolding of events. He had returned from Italy after spending much time quietly absorbing all the palace gossip and intrigue surrounding Constantius' court, and had resumed his position as Julian's chief steward.
'My lord,' he noted casually, as if it had just occurred to him, and indeed it very well may have, 'forgive me for raising an unpleasant subject, but one unfinished affair remains to be completed.'
Julian looked up, startled at first, but with a hint of amusement in his eyes. 'Eutherius, you old dog, what are you talking about?'
Eutherius maintained his customary grave demeanor. 'Again, forgive my presumptuousness, sir. But the woman Flaminia, the… er… midwife, had a daughter who still lives. She has languished in a solitary cell these past four years without trial. You have had other governors and judges demoted for treating their prisoners so harshly. She is said to be half mad, but perhaps you should put the matter to rest. Hostile tongues have been raising the subject of her imprisonment — Florentius in particular has been talking about it rather liberally — and such gossip could cast doubt on the impartiality of your judicial reforms.'
Julian stared at the old man in confusion for a moment, hardly remembering even the existence of the girl, and then looked inquiringly over at Sallustius, who avoided his gaze as he absentmindedly shuffled papers at the worktable.
'Several times I have tried to assign the case to an appropriate judge,' Sallustius said quietly. 'All of them recuse, however. They fear your wrath were they to find her innocent, and they fear your accusations of cowardice and sycophancy if they were to find her guilty. Most of all, they fear having to call Lady Helena and yourself to testify. It is an extremely awkward situation, and I would urge you to settle the case privately and quietly, perhaps simply by sending a trusted centurion to her cell with a sharp blade.'
Julian exploded. 'A trusted centurion! And what's to stop that centurion from discussing the matter with another trusted centurion, and another? Have I studied philosophy all these years to so flee my own responsibilities? Is it so difficult, then, both to afford the girl a fair trial and to seek the truth in the matter? By no means. I shall conduct the trial myself, as the greatest test of my objectivity and self-control. Let it be done.'
Dear God, what a nasty affair that was. I still shudder at the recollection. He had the foresight to first send me quietly to Sens, accompanied only by a single guard, with instructions to visit Matilda in her prison and determine whether she was fit to travel to Paris for the trial, and if so, to make arrangements for her transport forthwith. In the meantime, Eutherius, in hurried counsel taken with Sallustius and myself, pointed out the scandal that would ensue from a public trial of the girl, presided over by Julian himself as chief judge. The harm that would be caused to the Caesar's reputation for fairness, by trying a defendant while serving as both judge and plaintiff, would be incalculable. Not to mention the fact that the appearance of the dreaded midwife's daughter in Helena's presence would most likely only further unbalance the Princess's fragile state of mind. We resolved that I should delay as long as I reasonably could in fetching Matilda up to Paris, to allow them sufficient time to convince Julian that the notion of a public trial was folly, and that it was a matter to be settled privately.
Their efforts were in vain, though not for the reasons one might at first think. In accordance with the eunuch's and Sallustius' instructions, I tarried five days in arriving at Sens, on what would normally be an energetic two-day trip, first by feigning illness, then by slipping my horse a pinch of arsenic with his grain to render him colicky, and finally by pausing in one of the villages through which we were passing to surreptitiously inquire as to whether anyone in the vicinity might need medical assistance. I then arranged to treat a needy family on an urgent basis, which, as events would have it, involved nothing more than a case of childhood scabies and pinkeye. This treatment I was unable to stretch out for more than two hours, but by that time it was too late to take to the road again that evening. My guard and I were therefore forced to sojourn the night in the house of the sick child, where my own guard, rather fortuitously, as it turned out, managed to contract pinkeye, delaying our arrival yet another day. So much for these things.
Upon finally arriving in Sens, I repaired straight to the remote prison on the outskirts where the girl was being held, reluctant to delay in the city itself because of the number of people who knew me there and who might ask inconvenient questions. Upon arriving at the entrance to the cell, a windowless stone hut, really, hard by the city walls near the municipal rubbish heap, I was surprised to see that although it was locked, it was completely unguarded.
Peering inside past the two iron bars that almost completely obscured the high, narrow air slit in the side of the wall, I was unable to see anything, though when I called inside I thought I heard some faint rustling, perhaps of rats. Furious not only at this dereliction of duty on the part of the guards, but also at this ill-treatment of a prisoner, I sent my own guard galloping back to the city garrison to make inquiries, while I settled myself down by the cell door to wait.
It was not long, less than a half hour, perhaps, when a decidedly ill-looking soldier, an ancient Gallic auxiliary, shambled out from the vicinity of the rubbish heap, pale, unshaven, and tottering slightly on his feet like a sailor just landed after a three-week voyage. He stared at me with slightly unfocused eyes, and asked me in broken Latin what I wanted.
I stared down my nose at him haughtily. 'What do I want? You drunken ape. I am a physician, sent by the authorities to check on the status of your prisoner. Is this how you maintain the guard?'
The man stared at me insolently for a moment, sizing me up to determine whether I might truly have some authority over him, before he looked away and shrugged his shoulders in resignation.
'Were that it were only drunkenness, sir. It's the cholera, sure as can be, spread through the fetid parts like this dump, and sure to move on next to the city proper. I've been back of the latrines, pukin' and shittin' my guts out, sir, and I'd be happy to give you a sample of the results here and now if you like, for there's plenty more where that came from. You'd be better off saving your treatment for the likes of me than for the bitch what's inside the cell, for if she's not dead of the sickness already she will be in a day or two.' And leaning against the wall weakly, he managed to elicit a trickle of bile out of the corner of his mouth, and a mocking grin.
