The camp was without a leader, for even the praefect
Laetus, who had excited the tempest, prudently declined the public
indignation. Amidst the wild disorder, Sulpicianus, the emperor's
father-in-law, and governor of the city, who had been sent to the camp
on the first alarm of mutiny, was endeavoring to calm the fury of
the multitude, when he was silenced by the clamorous return of the
murderers, bearing on a lance the head of Pertinax. Though history has
accustomed us to observe every principle and every passion yielding to
the imperious dictates of ambition, it is scarcely credible that, in
these moments of horror, Sulpicianus should have aspired to ascend
a throne polluted with the recent blood of so near a relation and so
excellent a prince. He had already begun to use the only effectual
argument, and to treat for the Imperial dignity; but the more prudent of
the Praetorians, apprehensive that, in this private contract, they should
not obtain a just price for so valuable a commodity, ran out upon the
ramparts; and, with a loud voice, proclaimed that the Roman world was to
be disposed of to the best bidder by public auction.

This infamous offer, the most insolent excess of military license,
diffused a universal grief, shame, and indignation throughout the city.
It reached at length the ears of Didius Julianus, a wealthy senator,
who, regardless of the public calamities, was indulging himself in the
luxury of the table. His wife and his daughter, his freedmen and
his parasites, easily convinced him that he deserved the throne, and
earnestly conjured him to embrace so fortunate an opportunity. The vain
old man hastened to the Praetorian camp, where Sulpicianus was still in
treaty with the guards, and began to bid against him from the foot
of the rampart. The unworthy negotiation was transacted by faithful
emissaries, who passed alternately from one candidate to the other, and
acquainted each of them with the offers of his rival. Sulpicianus had
already promised a donative of five thousand drachms (above one hundred
and sixty pounds) to each soldier; when Julian, eager for the prize,
rose at once to the sum of six thousand two hundred and fifty drachms,
or upwards of two hundred pounds sterling. The gates of the camp were
instantly thrown open to the purchaser; he was declared emperor, and
received an oath of allegiance from the soldiers, who retained humanity
enough to stipulate that he should pardon and forget the co