Part 6

The way in which Cæsar was situated with regard to the republic at the end of his time in Gaul, was indeed so unhappy, that it was not in the power of man to bring matters to a good and joyful issue. If it was difficult even for Scipio, after his victory, to live as a citizen, and he did not quite know how to conduct himself; how much more for a man who, for nearly ten years, had been used to rule over vast tracts of country with the absolute power of a prince. Such a habit is hard to get rid of, as we may perceive in the less important things of our every-day life, wherein the change from one situation to another is often fraught with endless difficulties. All that Cæsar could have got lawfully, was a second consulship: this, however, as affairs then stood, was nothing but an empty honour; for what could he have done with himself and with the republic? He could indeed have only employed his great intellectual faculties by devoting himself in utter retirement to study. He had not been in Rome for ten years; and all that he heard from thence from those who came to him, was hateful to him, and showed him the government in a contemptible light. To live on a footing of equality with inferior, and some of them bad men, was what he could not think of without disgust. Matters therefore were in such confusion, that they could not possibly have righted. His opponents, instead of taking steps towards reconciliation, showed, on the contrary, symptoms which must have vexed him to the utmost. M. Marcellus, the consul of the year 701, let slip no occasion of annoying Cæsar: for instance, he had caused a man from Como, to whom Cæsar, by virtue of the full powers given him, had granted the citizenship, to be flogged like a common criminal, merely to insult and mock at Cæsar. In the following year, C. Marcellus, a cousin of the former, was consul with L. Æmilius Paullus, C. Scribonius Curio, being also tribune at the same time. Of him we have still some letters among those of Cicero: he was a young man of great talent, but of the most consummate profligacy. At first, owing to his family connexions, he belonged to Pompey’s party; and he was then considered as even a decided and very bitter enemy of Cæsar. But Cæsar knew that Curio was over head and ears in debt,—as much as two million dollars, we are told, which may give us some measure of the magnitude of the Roman fortunes, as well as of the vice and prodigality of the times,—and he is said to have gained him over by paying his debts. He likewise bought over the consul Æmilius Paullus with an immense sum: from this we may see what a mockery of a government the system of provincial administration was. The accounts were only given in after the triumph had been celebrated: this had been the case since the earliest times, and it still remained so, even now that the _imperia_ were held for such long periods. What the proconsul had gotten for himself, was not thought worth looking into: he had merely to show that he owed nothing to the army, and to account for what the senate had placed at his disposal from the _ærarium_. Æmilius Paullus built with those millions the Basilica Æmilia in the Forum, an edifice to which those noble pillars undoubtedly belonged, which, as Nibby supposes, stood in the Church of St. Paul until the calamitous fire in the year 1823.[10] Curio was uncommonly clever and adroit, and he put on an air of perfect impartiality: at first, he even sided against Cæsar; then, against both Cæsar and Pompey; at last, he flung off the mask, and declared for Cæsar.

With the next year, Cæsar’s proconsulship was to expire. He now, after a lapse of ten years, stood for a second consulship, and asked for a triumph beforehand; so that he might keep his army together, and disband it when that was over, as Pompey had done after the war with Mithridates. He wanted to be allowed to become a candidate at the consular election while still in his province,—an irregularity which had crept in during the seventh century,—and then to lead his army to Rome, and triumph. To prevent such a thing, it had been the rule, we do not know for how long, that no one who had an army should stand for the consulship. His opponents therefore demanded that he should lay down the _imperium_; disband his troops, that is to say, give up his triumph; and stand for the consulship as a private person. Had he thus delivered himself into the hands of his enemies, he was convinced that he would have lost his life. Curio now moved that Cæsar and Pompey should both disband their troops, and come to Rome as private persons; which was the fairest proposal. But the friends of Pompey maintained that, as the term of his _imperium_ was not yet come to an end, he ought not to be placed on an equal footing with Cæsar. It was the misfortune of Italy that Pompey, who was dangerously ill, did not then die: he was indeed so popular, or so dreaded, that all Italy prayed for his recovery. Pompey seemingly was ready to submit to the humiliation, though indeed he complained bitterly of the slight put upon him. Curio’s motion was carried by a majority of three hundred against about twenty;[11] but the consul Marcellus cancelled the decree. The aristocrats of that day professed to uphold the decrees of the senate, whereas in reality they wanted to rule the senate with a rod of iron; and so they did not even scorn the help of the rabble, being in every sense of the word _populaciers_, if it suited their ends: they would raise an outcry against rebellion, and yet they were the rankest revolutionists, if matters did not go on quite as they wished. Thus the party of Lamennais, as soon as the government does anything that they dislike, at once begin to preach regicide and revolution. I have heard men of the extreme right in France talking like Jacobins, uttering it as their opinion that the people of the very lowest class were gifted with an immense deal of sense, and that they showed the highest interest in the welfare of the country. Curio also did not make his proposal from any good motive: this he cannot have credit for, being one of those to whom the worst confusion is the most welcome state of things.

The next year, the tribunes were all of them the hireling creatures of Cæsar; and among these was he who was afterwards the frightful triumvir Antony. Pompey had received the command of Italy, and been authorized by the senate to raise an army for its safety, which, however, he was too indolent to do. On the first of January, in the year 703, the distribution of the provinces was again discussed in the senate; and as Pompey had troops in the city, it was decreed under his influence, that Cæsar should lay down his _imperium_. The tribunes protested; but so far was their protest from being heeded, that they were even threatened with personal violence by the consuls: having perhaps magnified the danger, they fled to Cæsar at Ravenna, on the frontier of the province of Gaul. Cispadane Gaul had, at that time already got the Roman franchise; but it belonged notwithstanding to Cæsar’s province. At Rome, Pompey and his friends swallowed the most absurd reports. It was said that Cæsar’s army was most highly disaffected, that it wanted to be disbanded; that it was weak in numbers; that it was worn out by wars:—in short they believed whatever they wished. Cæsar had in those parts not more than five thousand men with him, partly in order not to alarm the province, partly because he did not wish to strip Gaul of troops; now, at length, he gave orders that every one should march. What is indeed most inconceivable, is that the Gauls were now quite still, and did not move, whereas they had revolted when they had ten legions to keep them down: they very likely thought that the Romans would themselves destroy each other. Cæsar had before that already given up two legions, which were to go to Syria. Even at the end of the year, he was still negociating: he had offered to retain the command of Illyricum and Gallia Cispadana only, with two legions, or even one alone, on the sole condition that Pompey should likewise resign his _imperium_. All was, however, rejected: Pompey was to be left entirely out of the question, and the letter of the law was to be carried out. Now that the tribunes had arrived at Ravenna, the _senatus consultum_ was brought, in which Cæsar was ordered to come to Rome, and to give up his army to Domitius Ahenobarbus: this made him afraid of being prosecuted as soon as ever he came to Rome by himself. Passion then got the better of him, and he resolved upon starting for Ariminum. It is probably on the other side of Ariminum, in the neighbourhood of Cesena, that the bridge over the Rubicon was: the people about these places disagree as to which of the small rivers was the Rubicon. He was still wavering, not knowing whether he should sacrifice himself, or violate the law and save his life; for even then he seems to have thought much more of his safety than of dominion. There he stood in deep emotion, until he made up his mind to cross the river. Thus he arrived at Ariminum, which had opened its gates to him. In all that part of the country, nothing was prepared against him: people fancied that the times had not changed; and that the troops would abandon Cæsar, and go over to Pompey, because the latter had formerly been so popular with them. But Pompey had had his day; Cæsar’s soldiers even shared the emulation of their general, and were proud of their victories. There is not a more remarkable contrast than that which thirty years had brought about. Sylla’s war had lasted even to the third year, and throughout Italy the two parties were struggling most fiercely against each other; but now, there was not a man who cared so much as to raise his hand. Cæsar’s small army overran the whole of Italy, without meeting with any resistance, as would also happen in these days: the habits of the municipal towns were at that time quite as unwarlike as those of modern Italy. It may have had something to do with it, that Sylla’s legions in the military colonies were no longer inclined to such a civil war: from party motives, they ought in fact to have sided with Pompey; but it was perhaps the great general whom they liked best. What, however, turned the scale, was the utter want of any thing like public feeling: people no longer felt any interest either for one party or the other, as they were perfectly aware that there was now no regard for law, and that matters could not become much worse; and to lose life and limb for Pompey’s sake alone, was what they were by no means willing to do. Pompey had hoped to make an effect upon the people by high sounding words, and to pass off shadows for realities: no soldier’s heart could have beaten for him, as it might indeed for Cæsar. He had given himself airs as if he could have raised legions by stamping on the ground; but when he heard that Cæsar was already marching on the Via Flaminia, he as well as the senators had no other thought but that of flight. They had only a small army under the command of Domitius Ahenobarbus, the one who was to have taken Cæsar’s province. The latter now reached Rome without any further check. A short time before, Cicero had returned from Cilicia, and he was now the mediator of a peace; but although his counsels were the very justest and wisest, no one would listen to him. Pompey’s party took it into their heads, that at present it was much better not to defend themselves at Rome; that they ought by all means to let Cæsar make himself hateful in Italy; and that Pompey, whose lieutenants, M. Petreius and Afranius, were in possession of Spain, should draw all his forces (seven legions) thence, and concentrate them in Greece, and call to his aid all the moneyed resources of the east: Spain and Africa were theirs; Gaul would likewise declare against Cæsar; and the reaction could not fail to come. Thus they calculated very nicely, how they were to crush Cæsar in Italy. Pompey now went to Brundusium, and with him all the troops which had not fallen off. L. Domitius was besieged by Cæsar in Corfinium, on which his men made a capitulation for themselves. Cæsar gladly took most of them into his own army, and allowed the rest to go whithersoever they liked; thus leaving every one the choice of rising for him or keeping quiet. Domitius was completely deserted. At Rome, Cæsar was waited for with fear and trembling. Pompey had declared that whosoever was not with him, was against him; and every one who wished to stay in Rome, was threatened by his partisans with prosecution and proscription after the victory. From Cicero’s letters, one may see the monstrous way in which the Pompeians wanted to tyrannize over the opinions of the people.

Cæsar went from Corfinium to Brundusium. Pompey had wanted to keep this town, that he might have an arsenal, and a landing-place in Italy; and he hoped that his rival would not venture upon besieging it. Cæsar had hardly a ship, while Pompey, who was master of the east, had at his command the whole of the seafaring part of the world then known. The latter had collected his fleet in the harbour of Brundusium, where Cæsar attacked him with such resolution, that, having the open sea behind him, and ships at hand, he was obliged to withdraw from the place, and to betake himself to Illyricum. This was of great importance to Cæsar, as Brundusium was faithful to the Syllanian interest, which Pompey represented. Cæsar now had the treasury at Rome forced open, as the keys had been put out of the way: he took out the money, nominated magistrates, and dealt as an absolute monarch with the opposition of those who, like the tribune Metellus, wanted to play the farce of liberty. The people of the capital now expected scenes like those which had been witnessed in the time of his uncle Marius; but whoever chose to trust him was quite safe: he did not even utter a bitter word against any one. But it was not the same in Italy, whenever he could not be present; for his soldiers, and not a few of his officers, committed a great number of outrages, owing to which the feelings of many were turned against him. With his wonted great activity, after having arranged at Rome all that was to be settled, he went through the south of Gaul to Spain, where the generals did not even march to meet him, or block up the way over the Pyrenees. His army was far less than that of his opponents, which consisted of seven legions; and he even left part of it behind for the siege of Marseilles, that city having wanted to keep neutral. He may have had some particular reason to be hard upon it, and perhaps he still bore it an old grudge: he now called upon it to declare for him, and on its refusal, he detached two legates to attack the place. The description of this siege in the second book of the _Bellum Civile_ is very interesting, as it shows us the system then in use, which was very different from the Greek one. After a long siege, and not till Cæsar’s return from Spain, the Massilians were forced to surrender. Cæsar did not destroy the town, nor was he guilty of any outrage against it; but the inhabitants had to give up their arms, and had long to suffer the loss of their freedom. The triumph over the Massilians is one of the most shameful things ever done, as they had always been the staunch allies of the Romans.

Afranius and Petreius made a stand against Cæsar near Lerida in Catalonia, and he had to employ the whole of his art, the victory which he gained being properly speaking, a moral one: he caused such a desertion in their army, that they were obliged to treat. Afranius, a commonplace man, was for coming to terms, but Petreius spurned the very thought: he even inflicted heavy punishments on the soldiers who wanted to place themselves in communication with Cæsar. This was, however, of no avail: he saw that the legions would desert him altogether. The two leaders therefore made a capitulation for themselves, and for M. Varro, by which they agreed to evacuate the whole of Spain; and they were allowed to go free with those who did not wish to serve under Cæsar, which, however, most of the men did. Thus Cæsar became master of the whole of Spain.