ET TU, Part One THE CURTAIN RISES

I believe the murder was first set in motion far from the scene of the crime -  in modern day Turkey, in a patch of desert about ten miles north of the border with Syria.  In 53 B.C.E., this spot of emptiness was called Carrhae, and in Roman history that name is synonymous with shame.  It was at Carrhae that 20,000 Legionaries died, and worse, 10,000 were captured, and even worse, it was here that the aristocrat’s aristocrat, the greedy Marcus Licinius Crassus (above), richest man in Rome, was killed. 

His death should not have been a great tragedy, as not many outside his immediate family had reason to mourn his demise.  But within ten years of his death, the Roman Republic would collapse, and the cause of democracy would be set back two thousand years – and all that occurred because Crassus got what he deserved. I would label all that followed his death, the horrible unintended consequences of a good thing. And one of those consequences was the murder on the Ides of March.

Crassus, the richest man in Rome, had also once been a hero. He led the right wing at the battle of Coline Gate, which made Sulla dictator of Rome.  He had defeated the slave armies of Spartacus, and lined the Appian Way with 6,000 crucified slaves. Then he had turned to running the finances of Sulla' s brutal regime. 

Now, at 60, he wanted to be a hero again.  His plan to achieve this was to invade Parthia, the empire centered upon present day Iran.  But age had not made Crassus more intellectually flexible or humble of spirit. When offered assistance from the King of Armenia, Crassus chose to keep all the plunder for himself.

So, in the spring of 53 B.C.E., at the head of seven veteran legions and 8,000 cavalry commanded by his son, Publius, Crassus crossed the Euphrates river at Zeugma, and almost immediately started making mistakes.

He hired a guide who led him deep into a treeless desert near Carrhea (above), and then vanished. And once the legions were ankle deep in sand and desperately short of water, only then did the Parthian army appear - 10,000 cavalry, mounted on horses and camels, all armed with powerful bows.

Arrows showered upon the massed legions, wounding men and sapping moral. The Roman tactical response was to form the infantry into turtles (testudos) (above), closing ranks tightly, with the center ranks marching beneath their shields, and the soldiers on the edges presenting the enemy with a moving wall. But so strong were the Parthian bows that some arrows even penetrated the turtle's shells. It went on for hours. The turtles could only march slowly and only in a straight line, under a baking desert sun. Eventually, reasoned Crassus, the Parthian bowmen would run out of arrows. But then he spotted large camel trains approaching, each dromedary carrying a fresh supply of arrows.

In desperation Publius's cavalry charged the camels, but the Parthian's proved adept at shooting while retreating - the famous Parthian shot (above), the sting in the scorpion's tail.  Publius was killed and his cavalry scattered. After that, the Parthians closed in again and the arrows continued to shower down upon the turtles. The sun continued to beat down. Eventually Crassus was forced to slowly retreat into the village of Carrhea. After a night without water, his officers forced Crassus to parlay with the Parthian commander.

The morning meeting was a disaster. The deaf Crassus perceived an insult in some Parthian translation, and moved to remount his horse. To stop him a Parthian officer grabbed the horses' bridle. A proud Roman officer pulled his gladius to defend his commander's honor, and the Parthian generals slaughtered the Roman officers, including Marcus Licinius Crassus. After that, the Parthians fell upon the leaderless legions, and effectively wiped them out. The sad survivors limped back to Antioch.

The legend is that after the slaughter, the Parthians poured molten gold into the severed head of the greedy Crassus. It sounds like a terrible waste of a precious metal, but then the war had been a terrible waste of seven irreplaceable Roman legions. But the two men in all the world who understood intuitively what a disaster Crassus' death really was for Rome, were his two greatest competitors.

The sardonic Sulla had nicknamed Gnaeus Pompeius, as Pompey the Great (above). But Sulla had meant it as a joke - whatever else he was, Sulla was a ruthless judge of character. Sent by Sulla to secure the Roman grain supplies in Sicily, the young Pompey had earned another nickname, 'the adolescent butcher'. When the citizens of one small Sicilian village argued his attack upon them was illegal, Pompey responded bluntly, “Stop quoting laws. We carry weapons!” He then slaughtered the entire village  Returning home, Pompey demanded a triumphal parade, usually reserved for great military victories. After Sulla's death, the Senate dispatched Pompey to crush a rebellious general. Pompey bribed one of the rebel officers to kill the general, and then eliminated the traitor. His justification was typically blunt. “A dead man cannot bite”. And he claimed another triumph. Sent to crush pirates who were raiding Roman grain fleets, Pompey bought them off, and again, claimed yet another triumph - Pompey Maximus, indeed.

As the two richest and most ambitious men in Rome, Pompey and Crassus had initially cooperated to strengthen the tribunes. This was not out of some faith in the Senate, but to use the tribunes as a buffer between them. For four hundred years these 'Tribunes of the Plebs' had been a counter-balance to the aristocrats in the Senate. Elected by the whole male population, tribunes could not make laws, but they could veto any law passed by the Senate (above), and lead soldiers in battle. Sulla had reduced the tribunes to a ceremonial post. But Pompey and Crassus, increasingly driven apart by suspicion, paranoia and envy, used the tribunes to enact their policies. And one of the men supported by Crassus for tribune of the people was Gaius Julius Caesar.

Sulla had taken one look at the smart, ambitious young Caesar (above), and marked him down for elimination. Julius avoided Sulla's assassins by joining the army. Once Sulla died, Julius returned to Rome, where Crassus backed his election as a Tribune and then sent him to Spain. While there Caesar had defeated two small tribes. This earned him the right to a triumph. Instead, Caesar asked Crassus for help, meaning money, to run for Consul of Rome.

A Consulship was the executive position in the Republic, the equivalent of an American President. But Romans were so afraid of someone wanting to rule over them as a  king, that the term of office was just one year long, and there were two equal consuls elected each year. Each had the power of veto over any action by the other. This was a system designed to ensure deadlock.  As a result of the election of 60 B.C., Caesar (Crassus' man) was elected. But the other consul elected that year, Marcus Bibulus, was Pompey's man.  Every law Crassus backed, Bibulus vetoed, ever law Pompey pushed, Caesar vetoed. And it was Caesar’s political genius that he saw the way to use this deadlock to increase his own power.

In 59 B.C., Caesar pushed for a law Pompey had long supported, a land reform act that would give farms to Pompey's veterans. Bibulus, who was an aristocrat and a land owner, tried to veto Caesar’s bill, but thugs hired by Caesar drove Bibulus out of the forum, and even dumped a dung bucket on Bilbulus's head. Caesar’s bill passed. Then through flattery, Caesar convinced Pompey to endorse  the new law, and saw he got credit when it proved popular. That quickly everything in Rome was changed, from a deadlocked confrontation between two men, into a more balanced government ruled by three - The First Triumvirate. In exchange for his work bringing peace between Crassus and Pompey, Caesar was appointed Governor of Trans-alpine Gaul, what today is France, for ten years..

Thus the Romans divided their known world between these three men. Caesar, the weakest, went west, to conquer and plunder Gaul with four legions. Pompey, who saw himself as a great general, stayed in Rome, without legions, to guard and plunder the Republic. And the financier Crassus had turned eastward, to conquer and plunder Parthia with seven legions. But in 53 B.C.E. Crassus had gotten himself killed, and the Roman Republic, carefully crafted over 400 years to exist as a balance between opposing forces, was abruptly reduced to a confrontation between two men. It was a contest which must result in the death of one of them.  In fact, it killed both.

- 30 -

THE MONSTER IS LOOSE - Napoleon seduces France one more time.

I think out of the 240 million Europeans alive that spring, less than 1 in 10 felt any joy at learning that at 1:00 pm, on Wednesday, the first day of March 1815, 46 year old Napoleon Bonaparte had landed on the beach of the azure coast village of Antibes. During the previous 20 years, nine hundred thousand Frenchmen had sacrificed their lives to Napoleon's ego – 3 million dead in all of Europe . That was why “The Devil's Favorite” had been exiled to the tiny island off Tuscany.  

But the reinstated King Louis XVIII (above, right) proved so arrogant and stupid, that just 9 months later the “Ogre of Elba” was back. 

During his sea born escape, “The Eagle” had lectured his followers, "All France regrets me,” he said, “and wants me” And that schizophrenia described France, perfectly. But the “Jupiter Scapin” - or monumental fraud - went on to predict, “I shall reach Paris without firing a shot."

As soon as his columns could form up – 600 of his “grumblers” - the elite Old Guard - 100 Polish lancers (without horses) and assorted followers, 2 cannons and two chests containing 2 ½ million francs in gold coins, the once an d future Emperor confidently ordered his men forward. And as always, they obeyed. 

He was only of average height for the age, about 5 feet 6 inches tall. His once delicate face had fattened. His shinning white teeth had yellowed. Still, these men followed him because he usually brought victory. And his deep set blue-gray eyes were still bright, still constantly darting about, always looking for his foe's vulnerable spot to insert the knife.

But he was no longer the handsome athlete who had brought a revolution to heel, and then conquered a continent. Now, he was running a bluff.  Having taken the first step by returning to France, he now marched his miniature army 12 kilometers to the west, to the fishing village Cannes. 

There he men camped with his men,  in the open. At 4:00 in the morning of Thursday, 2 March, they set off inland and uphill 20 kilometers to the “Gueuse Parfumee” , “the scented slut” of France.

The crossroads had once been home to stinking leather tanneries, but altitude (1,000 meters) and climate also made it an ideal garden. A later visitor described how, “Violets carpet the terraces under the olive-trees, while on other terraces grows the orange-tree”, with “...fields of jonquil, and of jessamine, and...that Rose of Provence, which excels all other roses in fragrance. …” 

Over time the inept Bourbons taxed Grasse's tanneries and their “perfumed glove makers” out of business. So, first the Galimard family in 1747, followed in 1758 by the Sozio family, switched to the exclusive production of perfumed soaps and balms. These proved so popular that even when the revolution chopped off the heads of most of France's wealthy families, it failed to kill the business.

Then, after dark on 1 March, a messenger arrived from Antibes, alerting the officials in Grasse of the Emperor's arrival. Their reaction, and that of town's 12,000 citizens, was telling. As David Chandler wrote in his monumental 1966 history, “The Campaigns of Napoleon”, “The French people... remained calm and observant, awaiting a sign before committing themselves one way or the other.” But they also sent a rider north to Paris, alerting Minister of War, Soult, that the “Monster was loose”.

Later that evening, when General Pierre Cambronne, at the head of Napoleon's advance guard, arrived, the bakers of Grasse promptly went to work, preparing the 2 to 3,000 baguettes he had requested. At noon, when Napoleon's petite army arrived, curious citizens came out, but did not rush to his eagles. Their mood, noted an observer, was, “Everyone wants the company to fail, but no one wants to provoke it.” 

The petite army paused on a rocky field at the northern edge of town, the Roquevinon, to eat lunch and to transfer their bread and gold to burrows. Everything was paid for, even at inflated prices. Then, to the townsfolk's relief, the army set out again, now climbing 14 kilometers to a small village set amid stone age monoliths - Saint-Vallier-de-Thiey, at 1,500 meters above sea level. They arrived about four in the afternoon, but they did not pause. Napoleon's strategy was the “bums rush”, and speed was now everything. As he famously said, “I may lose a battle, but never a minute.”

Leaving the main road, their route now narrowed until it was a single track, then contracted again until it was little more than a trail, entering the narrow Gorges of the Siagne. 

The column became single file. The advance slowed. And Napoleon stumbled up the steep slope until he tripped and fell. After a second fall, his grumblers set the Emperor atop Tauris, the white stallion he had been given by Russian Tsar Alexander I. As they approached the Gorges de la Haute Siagne (above),  tight beads of snow began to fall. 

One of the burdened mules slipped on the broken limestone and tumbled over the edge of the narrow gorge. Its burden of 10,000 gold Napoleons glittered and danced down the white rocks into the River Siagne, 700 meters below. The column paused while as many of the coins as possible were retrieved.

After dark, and after covering an addition 26 kilometers, the column reached the tiny (300 residents) village of Seranon. They had achieved the summit of their alpine journey, at 1,700 meters. While his soldiers made camp in the cold open air, the Emperor checked into the Chateau Broundet, curled up in an arm chair in the lobby.  He spent an uneasy night, suffering from what his personal physician, Dr. Carabes called, “ ...a crisis of hemorrhoids.” It was a condition which was to afflict him, especially on horseback, throughout the next 100 days,. 

It was now Friday, 3, March, 1815, and before dawn, Napoleon and his army set off again, rejoining the main road and marching 25 kilometers to Castellane, at 700 meters altitude. They had escaped the highest mountains, and for the first time a few in the crowd shouted, “Vive La Emperor!” Without pausing the army continued another 25 kilometers to the lavender fields surrounding the village of Barreme. Here Napoleon again stopped for the night, and to rest his weary soldiers.

Seven hundred seventy kilometers to the north, in the Tuileries Palace (above) in Paris...

...French Minister of War, General Marshal Jean-de-Dieu Soult (above) informed Louis Stanislas Xavier Bourbon, a.k.a., King Louis XVIII of France, that Napoleon had landed three days earlier. The acerbic Soult assured his King the 60,000 troops scattered about the south of France would easily deal with Napoleon's 600. The issue he told the King, was “...a mere matter for the gendarmerie.” 

But fat Louis, though gout ridden, was not quite as dense as his detractors wanted to believe. He responded thoughtfully, “ It will depend on the behavior of the first regiment Bonaparte encounters.” Soult predicted that first encounter would take place at Grenoble. 

That night “Le Rougeaud” (red faced) Marshall Michel Ney (above) , whom Napoleon had called his “Bravest of the Brave”, left Paris to take command of troops at Grenoble and secure the Emperor's  arrest or death. He promised Louis to bring Napoleon back “in an iron cage.”

Before dawn on Saturday, 4 March 1815, Napoleon's army set out for Digne, 30 kilometers to the north west. And a few hours after Napoleon's force left the village, three companies of the 27^th regiment of royal infantry – about 400 men - appeared on the same road. 

They had been intended as the core of a blocking force further south, but the devil Napoleon's decision to pass through the Gorges of the Siagne had outflanked them, and left them rushing to catch up to him. But now, with a royal force gathering at Grenoble, Napoleon's petite army would be squeezed between the two.

Twenty kilometers beyond Digne, the petite army camped around the Chateau Noguier just outside of the small village of Malijai, while the Emperor spent another evening inside. But in the morning, Sunday, 5 March, he was again near the head of his column, marching for the bottleneck at the “Gateway to Provence”, the fortress town of Sisterton, on the River Durance - 40 kilometers to the northwest of Digne. But the 3,500 residents of Sisterton were strongly royalist. Lead and powder stored there had been moved beyond the Emperor's reach.

Napoleon passed through the hostile commune as quickly as he could. Instead, he continued another 50 kilometers to the regional capital of Gap, where he paused only long enough to print up a proclamation. 

It told the people of France, “Your wishes are granted. The cause of the nation will triumph again. You are right to call me your father; I live for the honor and happiness of France.” After overpaying for a carriage, wherein he could rest his hemorrhoids, Napoleon was on the march again by 2:00 p.m. This time the abusive father of France was headed 40 kilometers to the north to the tiny village of Corps. There, early the next morning, he was awakened from his sleep in the Hotel du Palais, and informed the enemy had been met.

It was a most French of encounters. At about midnight, that Monday, 6 March, two staff officers – one from Napoleon's advance guard, the other from the advance guard of the 5^th Royal Infantry - met at the front desk of the hotel in the village of La Mure, both there to reserve rooms for their officers. The two old comrades cordially greeted each, reserved accommodations, and then rushed to inform their respective commanders. 

Marshall Ney had ordered the Pont du Haut bridge over the la Bonne River destroyed, and dispatched the first battalion of the 5th regiment to blow it up or burn it. But General Cambronne's  advance guard got there first, securing both the bridge and the village of La Mure (above). He immediately sent word back to Napoleon. Tomorrow would be the day of decision.

Napoleon and his 600 men arrived in La Mure at 8:00 a.m, on Monday, 6 March, 1815, and crossed over the bridge. 

They then advanced 16 kilometers to the prairie now called de la Recontre - “Field of Encounter” - outside the tiny village of Laffrey.  

Arriving there about 11:00 a.m., the Emperor mounted Tauris and slowly rode forward to the face 800 men of the first battalion of the 5^th royal infantry regiment (above), formed up in firing lines. The Emperor knew that a few kilometers behind these 800 men was another battalion, this from the 7^th royal regiment, rushing to their support. It was vital the Emperor resolve the issue in his favor before that second battalion arrived, and before the 400 soldiers to his rear, caught up.

From atop his own horse, Major Lessart in command of the 5^th infantry, ordered his men to raise their weapons - “Armes!” In unison the troops lifted their muskets to their shoulders. Napoleon slowly rode forward until he was half way between the opposing ranks. Then he dismounted. Lessart shouted, “Joue!” - Ready! And 800 hammers were pulled back on 800 muskets. 

By a sweep of his arm, Napoleon signaled his Old Guard to lower their own muskets. Raggedly, reluctantly, they did so. Then Napoleon opened his gray frock coat, baring his white shirt to the ranks of bayonets and muskets. Major Lessart shouted, “Feu!” - fire! And the world caught it's breath.

Not one of the 800 members of the Fifth regiment pulled their triggers. Not a single flint sparked. But, in the silence, no one lowered their weapon, either. The fate of France teetered on a knife's edge. Napoleon took a long breath, and removed his hat. The second in command of the Fifth shouted desperately, “Feu! Feu! Feu!”. In a loud, firm voice, Napoleon shouted over those words, “"Soldiers of the Fifth. I am your Emperor. If there is among you a soldier who wants to kill his Emperor, here I am!"

Major Lassart shouted again, “Feu!” And while that order still reverberated in the spring air, Napoleon continued. “Soldiers! I come to you with a handful of good people, because I count on the people and you. The throne of the Bourbons is illegitimate since it was not raised by the nation. Your fathers are threatened with the return of tithes and feudal rights. It is not ambition that brings me among you. The forty-five best heads of the government of Paris have called me from Elba, and my return is supported by the three first powers of Europe.”

 It was a lie, of course.  No one in the Paris government had called for his return. And this same day, the heads of the victorious European powers, meeting at the Congress of Vienna, had labeled Napoleon an outlaw, and pledged 150,000 men each to destroy him.  But that would not be generally known for weeks. By then it would no longer matter. 

Those lies broke the ties between the French army and the Bourbon monarchy. The soldiers of the 5^th infantry lowered their weapons, and began to shout, “Vive l’Empereur!” - Long live the Emperor!” As the writer Honoré de Balzac described it, “...once again, France gave herself to Napoleon, just as a pretty girl abandons herself to a Lancer”.

The next day the 7^th regiment at Grenoble switched sides and joined the ranks of Napoleon's army. Napoleon said later, “Before Grenoble I was an adventurer. At Grenoble I was a ruling prince.” 

On 8 March, the mayor of Lyon not only opened the city gates to Napoleon, he had them removed and presented to the Emperor as a gift (above).  On 11 March the Rothschild bankers received early word of Napoleon's success at Grenoble and sold 600,000 shares of English bonds on the London stock exchange, turning a handsome profit when the stocks plummeted 24 hours later. 

On 14 March, Marshall Ney (above), leading 6,000 soldiers, switched sides and rejoined his Emperor. 

On Sunday, 19 March, King Louis XVIII  (above) abandoned Paris and ran for the coast. The next day, Napoleon occupied the capital.

A mere 89 days later, on Sunday, 18, June, 1815, France got the bill for their brief re-infatuation with Napoleon – some 40,0000 dead and and wounded on the fields of Waterloo and a half dozen other towns across Belgium , France and Italy.  For the next 3 years, the allied armies – Prussia, Russia and Austria and England - would impose a 700 million franc bill for occupying France. But the greatest cost of feeding Napoleon's ego was that after the little corporal sailed off to his final exile on St. Helena, there were more women still alive in France than men.

As Napoleon himself said, “There is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.” And from his tiny palace on St. Helena he assured his devastated nation, “In five hundred years' time, the French imagination will be full of me. They will talk only of the glory of our brilliant campaigns. Heaven help anyone who dares to speak ill of me."

- 30 -