Tiberius

German: to drink it without evident signs of greed.

'I am honoured, General, that you ask my advice, but how can you know that it is good advice? How can you be certain that I am not intending to take this opportunity to restore my credit with my own people?'

'Segestes,' I said, 'I could speak much of your honour, and utter a long speech in your praise. I could say I believe, as indeed I do, that you have come to think that it will be to the benefit of your people that they should enter within the embraces of the Roman empire. And there would be much truth in what I would say. But there is another argument which will remind you of what manner of man I am.'

I clapped my hands to call back my servant, and whispered a message to him. He departed, to come back in a few moments leading a German youth, who stood before us and glowered.

'When you came over to us,' I said, 'you did us the honour of entrusting your son, the young Segestes, to us. That showed your faith in Rome. I am sensible of your confidence, and I shall now repay it by making the boy my aide-de-camp. He shall remain by my side throughout this campaign, eat at my table, sleep in my tent. I shall watch over him…'

'I see, General,' he said. 'It is a powerful argument. But I have many sons, seventeen I think, and some of them are in the other army. Why should I trouble myself about the fate of one out of seventeen?'

'Well,' I said, 'that is a matter for you to decide. You have given me good advice, and I shall ponder it. Do not doubt my gratitude, which I shall extend to this boy also.' And so I threatened Segestes with his son's death, while the death of my own little boy lay like a dead flower pressed in the book of life. Did I give five minutes then to thought of what he might have been? I doubt it. I had been aroused to a sense of the army's danger. Comfort for Julia and mourning for little Tiberius must wait. I summoned a council, for I have never believed that a general should embark on a course of action without discussing it with his officers. The greater the danger, the more necessary it is that they understand the position. Yet, paradoxically, the greater and more immediate the danger, the more necessary it is that the commander display authority. Debate is then a luxury; yet without granting the opportunity for debate, the commander may lose the chance of obtaining a valuable suggestion. Speed is of the essence, but there is much truth in the proverb festina lente: hasten slowly.

I outlined the position, and told them of my conversation with Segestes. 'What reason have we to trust in the word of a barbarian?'

The speaker was Marcus Lollius, a man whom, had I had full freedom to choose my officers, I would never have had on my staff. A few years previously, in Gaul, he had suffered a defeat at the hands of raiding Germans, brought on, in my opinion, by his neglect of security, represented by his failure to keep himself properly informed. However, it seemed the wrong moment to make reference to that episode and I knew I had to treat Lollius with kid gloves, as they say, for he was a favourite of Augustus, whom he flattered absurdly. But no flattery is too absurd for a dynast. 'Drusus trusted Segestes, and I trust my brother's judgment.'

This was a politic answer rather than a truthful one; in fact, I had trusted everything about Drusus except his judgment of men, for he was too easily carried away by the generosity of his nature and was therefore apt to take the word for the deed.

'Moreover,' I said, 'I think Segestes' interest is bound up with the success of our arms and with the fortune of the Roman people.' Lollius threw back his head and laughed, a calculated gesture.

'So, the campaign plan of a Roman army is now to be dictated by a barbarian deserter. I have never heard of such a thing. You would have us march into unknown territory at his word, when we have behind us a fortified line of march, which we know well…'

'And which lies through a forest which the enemy know better, and where we cannot deploy…'

There was a shifting of feet, as every man imagined the dreams that afflicted us by night in those accursed forests.

We debated the merits of the course open to us. Some were in agreement with Marcus Lollius that we should disregard the advice given by Segestes, and retrace the route by which we had advanced. 'It is only fifty miles to our first base,' they insisted.

'You can destroy an army in less time than it takes to march five,' I answered.

My reasoning carried weight, though Lollius continued to sneer. After all, everyone knew that the responsibility was mine, that they would themselves be free of blame even if I chose wrong. Then I outlined the merits of the two courses Segestes had proposed.

'It's clear, isn't it…?' the speaker hesitated, with habitual diffidence. This was Caius Velleius Paterculus, an honest man whose grandfather had fought by my father's side in the terrible siege of Perugia, and then fallen on his sword when all was lost. 'It's clear,' he repeated. 'Segestes thinks you should follow the high route because they will not think of it. But he thought of it himself, and so it seems likely that one of their chiefs will also do so. Therefore we should go downstream to join the Elbe.'

'No,' said Cossus Cornelius Lentulus, speaking sleepily as was his wont, 'have you never played the game the soldiers call 'spoof? It's a matter of guessing how many coins you each hold in your hand. Well, we are in the same position. We must always take the guessing game one stage further. For that reason I say we take the high road…'

There comes a time in war, as in political affairs, when argument falls away. It is a matter then of decision. All courses have been examined, and all found to have their own virtue and their own danger. None possesses any transcendent merit. Very well, the man in command must act and he must follow his course as if there had never been an alternative. I looked round my staff. I saw hesitation, uncertainty, fear. I thought of how both Paterculus and Lentulus were men worthy of the highest admiration. I said:

'Gentlemen, you have considered the problem wisely. You have laid out the arguments for either course with a lucidity which I commend. I will ponder these matters, and issue orders in the morning.' I spoke with an assurance I did not feel – precisely the circumstances in which assurance is necessary. I retired to my tent. I sent for the soothsayer, and drank a cup of wine while 1 was waiting. The German boy, the young Segestes, crouched in a corner of my tent. He had pulled a blanket round his shoulders and buried his face in it. A mop of yellow hair emerged from its folds, and though the rest of him was hidden I could sense the tension in which he held himself. I put my hand on his head. 'Don't be afraid,' I said. 'Do you speak any Latin?' He shook my hand off.

The soothsayer entered. I asked him if he had taken the omens. 'But not yet interpreted them,' he said.

'Good. We shall march by the high road. I trust the omens will be favourable.'

There is relief in decision. I retired and slept soundly. But I woke in the darkest hours having dreamed of little Tiberius and of Julia grieving. A whimper came from the corner of the tent where young Segestes was stretched out. I called to him and there was silence. Then I called again and heard him rise to his feet. He stumbled as he crossed the floor and fell on top of me. I held him close and felt him relax and then spring to life. We rejoiced and took comfort in each other's maleness. He smelled of the stable. In the morning he held his head high and smiled at me. For two days we saw no sign of the enemy but, keeping the river ever on our left hand, climbed high into the mountains. The track was poor, disappearing in places, and very early I gave orders that we should abandon the heavy waggons. For the first day I rode at the head of the column, but on the day following, judging that we had outstripped the enemy, and taken them by surprise, I transferred to the rear, from which direction I now judged an attack most likely to come. It is, moreover, the way of barbarian tribes to wage irregular war, and to try to cut off the rearguard of an army rather than risk frontal assault and wholehearted battle. Meanwhile the scouts who scoured the skirts of the forest reported no movement from the enemy. Our troops grew cheerful, and exchanged the opinion that we had given the Germans the slip. I could not share their confidence and when I consulted the elder Segestes, he declined to commit himself.

Towards evening on the second day it began to rain. The mist closed in upon us and soon we could see no further than a man can throw a spear in battle. Then one of the light waggons which we had retained slewed across the path, blocking our way. The accident happened in a narrow defile. While men struggled to free the cart, I sent a messenger after the main body of the army to warn them that we should be delayed. At that moment huge rocks descended from our right, blocking the pass. The crash was succeeded by silence broken only by the curses and heaving of our men trying to clear the way. A handful of them scrambled over the rocks, but the main body of the rearguard was held pressed together, unaware of what was happening, in the grip of incipient panic.

The attack came in at an angle on our rear through a beech wood. The steep slope and our unreadiness gave the barbarians an advantage. My first thought was one of shame, not fear, shame and anger. I have always prided myself on my use of intelligence, and it was our intelligence which had let us down, its failure which had exposed