The dedication of a tomb to a great man was a magnificent occasion, doubly so when the person whose life was being recalled was someone seen as honest, upright and a friend to the common people. Few doubted that the individual being honoured this day had been such a man; if he had demonstrable defects they were those of the ordinary mortal: however upright a man tried to be in his life, he could never quite stand unbowed against the malice or jesting nature of the Gods.

Born into one of the leading families of Rome, Aulus Cornelius had been a great general, the man who led the legions against, and humbled the heirs of, Alexander the Great. His victories in Greece had earned him the suffix Macedonicus and wealth beyond the dreams of avarice, but it was not just his fighting qualities that singled him out. He was remembered as an administrator who had employed, both in Rome and in the provinces, a light touch in the magistracies he had occupied, including the two occasions on which he had held the office of Consul, never bearing down on the poor and dispossessed in favour of the rich, the well-born or the powerful.

There were many ex-soldiers resident in the city who could recollect serving under him and recall his ease of manner, his natural nobility, as well as his concern for their welfare. Not that Aulus Cornelius was soft; any legions he commanded were a byword for their tight discipline and good order. But most telling, he was loved by his comrades because he had that commodity esteemed by all fighting men: he was successful. To crown a glittering career Aulus Cornelius Macedonicus had left behind him an inspiring tale to make the whole population of the city of Rome feel proud. He had died a hero’s death in the province of Illyricum, leading a mere seventy men who perished with him, to hold back, in a narrow defile, a much more numerous enemy, so that the legions to their rear could prepare for battle, a contest in which they were victorious.