CÆSAR IN EGYPT
The nobles betrayed their own cause at Pharsalia by their want of courage
and self-devotion. It is in vain that Lucan rounds a poetical period with
the names of the Lepidi, the Metelli, the Corvini, and the Torquati, whom
he supposes to have fallen in the last agony of the defence; of all the
great chiefs whom we know as leaders in the Pompeian camp, Domitius alone
perished on that day, and even he was killed in flight.
The fragments of the mighty ruin were scattered far away from the scene
of disaster. Pompey and a few adherents fled, as we have seen, in one
direction to Larissa; a larger number escaped by the road to Illyricum,
and met again within the walls of Dyrrhachium. The principal reserve
of the Pompeian forces was there commanded by M. Cato, and there also
was the common resort of the wavering and dissatisfied, such as Varro
and Cicero, who wished to secure their own safety in either event. The
fleets of the republic, under Octavius and C. Cassius, still swept the
seas triumphantly; the latter had recently burnt thirty-five Cæsarian
vessels in the harbour of Messana. But the naval commanders were well
aware that their exploits could have little influence on the event of a
contest which was about to be decided by the whole military force of the
Roman world; and forming their own plans, and acting for the most part
independently, they began more and more to waver in their fidelity to the
common cause. As soon as the event of the great battle became known, the
squadrons of the allies made the best of their way home, while some, such
as the Rhodians, attached themselves to the conqueror.
Then the soldiers in garrison at Dyrrhachium became turbulent. They
plundered the magazines and burnt the transports on which they were
destined to be conveyed to some distant theatre of protracted warfare.
The desertion of the allies, the mutinous spirit of the troops, and the
report of the numerous adhesions which Cæsar was daily receiving from
the most conspicuous of the nobles, convinced Cato that the last hope of
keeping the party together, and maintaining the struggle effectually,
depended upon the fate of Pompey himself. In the event of the destruction
of the acknowledged chief of the senate, he only contemplated restoring
to the shores of Italy the troops confided to him, and then betaking
himself to retirement from public affairs in some remote province. While
the fatal catastrophe was yet unknown he withdrew from Dyrrhachium to
Corcyra, where the headquarters of the naval force were established; and
there he offered to surrender his command to Cicero as his superior in
rank. But the consular declined the perilous honour, and refused to take
any further part in a contest which, from the first, had inspired him
with distrust and remorse. The young Cneius Pompey had urged the exercise
of summary vengeance upon whomsoever should threaten defection at such a
crisis, and it was with difficulty he was restrained from using personal
violence against Cicero, when he declared his intention of embarking at
once for Italy. The recreant consular’s life was barely saved by Cato’s
vigorous interference. At Corcyra many of the fugitives from the field of
battle rejoined their confederates. Among them were Scipio and Afranius,
the former of whom now assumed the command of their combined forces, and
it was upon him, as soon as the fact of Pompey’s death was ascertained,
that the leadership of the party most naturally devolved.
Meanwhile, Cæsar followed up his success with unabated activity. He
allowed his soldiers at the most only two days’ repose on the scene of
their triumph, and amidst the spoils they had acquired. His care was
divided between improving the victory he had gained in the East, and
securing his acquisitions in the West. With the latter view he ordered
Antony to return to Italy with a large part of his forces, and watch over
his interests in that quarter, where he apprehended that some of the
beaten faction might hazard a descent upon the centre of his resources.
He also required his lieutenant Calenus to complete, without delay, the
subjugation of southern Greece. Athens had not yet opened her gates
to him, but the event of the great battle determined her to obey his
summons. The long resistance this city had made exposed it, by the laws
of ancient warfare, to the vengeance of the conqueror; but Cæsar ordered
it to be spared, for the sake, as he said, of its illustrious dead. The
Peloponnesus was now speedily evacuated by the forces of the republic,
and Calenus occupied the points on the coast where he anticipated the
possibility of fresh intrusion. Scipio had landed at Patræ, probably
to receive the remnant of the Pompeian garrisons in that province, but
straightway abandoned it, and stretched his sails for Africa.
Cæsar devoted himself to the pursuit of Pompey with the utmost energy
and impatience, being anxious not merely to prevent his assembling a new
armament, but if possible to secure his person. He pushed forward with
a squadron of cavalry, and was followed by a single legion. He reached
Amphipolis just after the fugitive’s departure, and, taking the route
of Asia by land, crossed the Hellespont with a few small vessels. In
the passage he fell in with the squadron of C. Cassius, who had been
despatched to the Euxine to stimulate or co-operate with Pharnaces,
king of Pontus, whose promised succours were urgently demanded. It was
remarked as an extraordinary instance of the good fortune ever supposed
to wait upon the mighty conqueror, that the mere terror of his name
induced Cassius to surrender his galleys to a few fishing-boats. There
can be little doubt that the republican commander had already made up his
mind to change his side, when accident threw this favourable opportunity
in his way. As a man of influence and authority, as well as an able
soldier, he was well received by his adopted leader, and the good offices
attributed to Brutus could hardly have been required to conciliate to him
the favour of Cæsar.
Having now arrived on the Asiatic coast, Cæsar advanced more leisurely.
He had received information of Pompey’s flight to Egypt, and was aware
that, if the suppliant were received there, he could not be dislodged
except by regular military operations. He was content therefore to await
the arrival of ampler succours, and employed himself in the meanwhile
with repairing the injuries which Scipio was accused of having inflicted
upon the unfortunate provincials. He earned their favourable opinion by
the remission of taxes, and by restraining the exactions of the farmers
of the revenue. He saved a second time from spoliation the treasures of
the Ephesian Diana, which Ampius, an adherent of the opposite party,
had been on the point of seizing. These benefits he accompanied with
further favours and distinctions, and then handed over the government of
the province to Calvinus, to whom he entrusted three legions, to defend
it against Pharnaces and the other oriental allies of the senate. Cæsar
retained only two legions about his own person, and those so much reduced
in number as to contain much less, than half their proper complements.
The whole of this force consisted of only 3200 infantry, and eight
hundred cavalry, and with these he sailed without hesitation for Egypt.
It was only a few days after the death of Pompey that he appeared thus
attended off the port of Alexandria. No sooner was his arrival known than
Theodotus hastened to meet him on board his vessel, and brought to him
the head and ring of his murdered rival. The latter might be of important
service to assure the wavering of the event which had occurred, and Cæsar
took and preserved it for that purpose; but from the mangled head he
turned away with horror, and gave orders, with tears in his eyes, that
it should be consumed with the costliest spices. The ashes he caused
to be deposited in a shrine which he erected to the avenging Nemesis.
The murderers were confounded and alarmed at the feeling he exhibited,
nor were they less astonished, perhaps, at the perfect confidence with
which he disembarked upon their coast, and claimed with his handful of
followers to settle the concerns of a powerful kingdom.
It had been Cæsar’s policy to spare the wealth of the provinces which he
wished to attach to his side, and his system was directly opposed to the
confiscation of his enemies’ estates; but his want of money was urgent,
and it was in arranging the quarrels of a dependent kingdom that the best
opportunity might be found for exacting it. This undoubtedly was the
urgent motive which impelled him to intrude upon the affairs of a jealous
people, in which his principal designs were in no way implicated. When
Auletes came to Rome to negotiate his restoration to the throne, he had
purchased the support of the leaders of the senate by the most lavish
bribes. Cæsar himself had received the promise of seventeen millions and
a half of drachmæ; an obligation which had never yet been discharged.
He now confined his demand to ten millions, but sternly rejected the
representations of Pothinus, who pleaded for a longer time for the
payment of so large a sum. But even at the moment of landing Cæsar was
warned of the difficulties into which he was rushing. His military force
was contemptible; it was upon the dignity of his title as consul of the
republic that he could alone rely. Accordingly, he entered the streets
of Alexandria with all the insignia of his office, thereby offending the
populace, who were easily persuaded that he offered an intentional insult
to their independence. A riot ensued, in which many of the Cæsarian
soldiers lost their lives. Cæsar felt that he had mistaken the character
of the nation, and underrated their jealousy of foreigners.
But policy would not allow him to give way. He summoned the rival
sovereigns before him, and offered to decide their disputes in the name
of the republic. Ptolemy left his camp at Pelusium, and gave Cæsar a
meeting in the palace of Alexandria, where he soon found himself watched
and detained as a hostage. Cleopatra had already implored the consul’s
mediation, and now, when her brother or his ministers obstructed her
approach to his presence, she caused herself to be carried by stratagem
into his chamber. The fame of Cleopatra’s beauty, which was destined
to become second only to Helen’s in renown, was already bruited widely
abroad. She had been seen by Mark Antony during the brief inroad of
Gabinius into Egypt; and grave legates of the republic had brought back
to Rome glowing reports of the girlish charms of the Lagid princess.
She was indeed, at the time of her introduction to Cæsar, not twenty
years old, and her wit and genius in the arts of female conquest were
yet unknown. Perhaps it was fortunate for their celebrity that the man
upon whom she was first to prove their power was already predisposed to
submit. Cæsar forthwith undertook the championship of the distressed
beauty, for it suited his purpose to play off her claims against the
haughty minions of her rival. In devoting himself to her cause he did not
deny himself the reward of his gallantry; but while he indulged in the
luxuries and dissipations of the most sensual of capitals, he kept his
eye steadily fixed on his main object, and at the same time carefully
guarded his own person from the machinations of his unscrupulous enemies.
The ministers of the young king were well assured that the reconciliation
of the brother and sister would be the signal for their own disgrace.
They employed every artifice to rouse the passions of a jealous mob,
and alarmed the fanaticism of priests and people against a foreigner,
whom they accused of desecrating their holy places, of eating accursed
meats, and violating their most cherished usages. Cæsar had despatched an
urgent message to Calvinus to hasten to his succour with all the forces
he could muster. But while waiting for the arrival of reinforcements, the
necessity of which he now keenly felt, he dissembled every appearance
of apprehension, and occupied himself in public with the society of
Cleopatra, or in conversation with the Egyptian sages, and inquiry
into their mysterious lore. His judgment was no more mastered by a
woman’s charms than by the fascinations of science; but the occupation
of Alexandria was essential to his plans, and he assumed the air of
curiosity or dissipation to veil his ulterior designs. With this view he
visited with affected interest all the vaunted wonders of the city of the
Ptolemies, and even proposed, it was said, to relinquish his schemes of
ambition to discover the sources of the Nile. At the first outset of his
career of glory, his imagination had been fired at Gades by the sight of
Alexander’s statue; now that the highest summit of power was within his
reach, he descended to the tomb of the illustrious conqueror, and mused
perhaps on the vanity of vanities beside his shrouded remains.
The young king, though kept in hardly disguised captivity within the
walls of his palace, had found means to communicate to his adherents
the alarm and indignation with which he viewed the apparent influence
of his sister over the Roman commander. The Macedonian dynasty which
had reigned for three centuries in Alexandria was not unpopular with
its Egyptian subjects. Though the descendants of Lagus had degenerated
from the genius and virtues of the first sovereigns of their line, their
sway had ever been mild and tolerant, and both conquerors and conquered
reposed in equal security under the shadow of their paternal throne.
Achillas, the general of the king’s armies, had a force of twenty
thousand men, consisting principally of the troops which Gabinius had
employed in the restoration of Auletes, and which had been left behind
for his protection. These men had for the most part formed connections
with the natives, and had imbibed their sentiments at the same time that
they adopted their manners. The camp was filled, moreover, with a crowd
of deserters and fugitive slaves from all parts of the Roman Empire,
for Alexandria was the common resort of the desperate and abandoned, who
purchased impunity for their crimes by enlisting in the king’s service.
These were the men who had placed Auletes on his throne, who had murdered
the sons of the Roman legate Gabinius, and expelled Cleopatra from her
royal inheritance. They were the reckless agents of the populace of
Alexandria in each capricious mood of turbulence or loyalty. They were
now prepared to join in the general outcry against the intrusion of the
Romans, and encouraged by their leader and Arsinoe, the younger sister
of their sovereign, they entered the city, and imparted vigour and
concentration to the hostile ebullitions of the multitude.
[Sidenote: [48-47 B.C.]]
[Illustration: ROMAN TRUMPETER
(After De Montfaucon)]
Cæsar awaited anxiously the expected succours; in the meantime he sought
to avert the danger by concession, and while he proposed that Ptolemy
and Cleopatra should resume their joint sovereignty, he was prepared
to satisfy the claims of Arsinoe by surrendering to her, together with
another younger brother, the province of Cyprus. But before these
arrangements were completed, the discontent of the Alexandrians revived
with more alarming violence. A skirmish which occurred in the streets
between the Roman soldiers and the Egyptians determined Cæsar to take
the bold step of seizing and burning the royal fleet. It was thus only
that he could hope to keep the coasts open for the approach of his
reinforcements. The city of Alexandria stretched along the sea-shore, and
its port was formed by an island named Pharos, which lay over against it,
and was connected with the mainland in the middle by a narrow causeway
and bridge. The island was occupied by the villas of the Alexandrians and
the suburbs of the great city. Its position enabled it to command the
entrances of the double port which were apparently much narrower than
at the present day. As a military position therefore it was invaluable,
and while the tumult was raging in the streets Cæsar transported into it
a portion of his troops, and seized the tower or fortress which secured
its possession. At the same time he continued to occupy a portion of the
palace on the mainland, which held the keys of communication with Pharos
by the causeway. He strengthened the defences with additional works,
destroying in every direction the private houses of the citizens, which
being built entirely of stone, even to the floors and roofs, furnished
him with abundant materials for his massive constructions. The Egyptian
troops set to work with no less energy in forming triple barricades
of hewn stone at the entrance of every street, and thus entrenching
themselves in a fortress in the heart of their city. They looked forward
already to the arrival of winter, and were convinced that the enemy must
fall eventually into their hands, when he could no longer derive supplies
from beyond the sea.
But in the meanwhile the shade of Pompey began to be avenged on his
murderers. At the commencement of the outbreak Cæsar had seized the
person of Pothinus, who was in attendance upon the young king, and
detecting him in correspondence with Achillas he put him summarily to
death. Soon after, Arsinoe, who hoped to make use of the Egyptian general
to elevate herself into the royal seat, having reason to be dissatisfied
with his conduct, induced her confidant Ganymedes to assassinate him.
The adhesion of the army she secured by a munificent largess, appointed
Ganymedes her minister and general, and, assuming the diadem of her
ancestors, caused herself to be proclaimed sole queen of Egypt.
The Alexandrians pressed the blockade with pertinacity. They could not
hope to dislodge the enemy by force, but they expected to reduce him by
cutting off his means of subsistence. A contemporary writer describes the
artificial contrivances by which the population of Alexandria obtained
their water, an abundance of which is of such primary necessity in
the climate of Egypt. It is well known that rain rarely falls there,
nor were there living springs for the supply of fountains. The common
people, indeed, were content with the water of the Nile in the turbid
state in which it flows through their slimy plain; but the houses of
the wealthier classes were supplied by means of subterranean channels,
with which the whole city was mined, and through which the stream of
the river was carried into reservoirs, where the noxious sediment was
gradually deposited. Such of these channels as led to the parts of the
city occupied by the Romans the Alexandrians obstructed, so as to prevent
the river from flowing into them, while on the other hand they filled
them with sea-water, raised by hydraulic machinery, in the construction
of which they were eminently expert. This operation caused at first
great consternation among the Romans, and still more among the native
population shut up within their defences. But its effect was defeated by
Cæsar’s sagacity. He caused his soldiers to dig pits on the sandy beach,
and the brackish water which oozed up in them furnished a sufficient
supply, not altogether unfit for drinking. At the same time the arrival
of a legion from Asia, with a convoy of provisions and military stores,
at a point a little to the west of Alexandria, revived the courage of the
besieged, and restored the fortunes of their commander.
The Rhodian vessels which had betaken themselves to Cæsar’s side were
now of great service to him in establishing a communication with these
reinforcements. The islanders of Rhodes had succeeded to the nautical
skill of Athens and Corinth, and were among the expert mariners of the
time. Combined with the small flotilla which Cæsar had brought with him,
and the ships which had lately arrived, these new allies presented a
formidable force. The Egyptians, however, though the royal fleet had been
destroyed, possessed considerable resources for the equipment of a naval
armament. They collected from every quarter all the vessels they could
muster, and hastily constructed others, till they found themselves in
a condition to dispute once more the approach to the harbour. Nor were
they less vigorous in the attack they made upon the enemy’s defences by
land. The crisis of danger called forth all Cæsar’s energies; he never
exposed his person more boldly, or encountered more imminent peril. At
one moment he was so hard pressed as to be forced to leap from his vessel
into the sea, and swim for his life, carrying his most valuable papers in
his hand above the water, and leaving his cloak in the possession of the
assailants, who retained it as a trophy, as the Arverni had preserved his
sword.
The Egyptians indeed were ultimately worsted in every encounter, but they
could still return to the attack with increased numbers; and Cæsar’s
resources were so straitened that he was not disinclined to listen to
terms of accommodation, the insincerity of which was transparent. The
Alexandrian populace declared themselves weary of the rule of their young
princess, and disgusted with the tyranny of Ganymedes. Their rightful
sovereign once restored to them, they would unite heartily with the
republic, and defy the fury of the upstart and the usurper. It cannot be
supposed that the Roman general was deceived by these protestations; the
bad faith of the Alexandrians was already proverbial in the West. But he
expected perhaps that the rivalry of Ptolemy and Arsinoe would create
dissension in their camps; he may have preferred coping with the young
king in open war, to keeping a guard over him, and watching the intrigues
with which he beguiled his captivity; possibly the surrender was made
in concession to a pressure he could not resist, and was adopted as a
means of gaining time. But when Ptolemy was restored to his subjects,
and immediately led them to another attack upon the Roman position, the
soldiers are said to have felt no little satisfaction at the reward of
what they deemed their general’s weak compliance.
Cleopatra, whose blandishments were still the solace of the Roman general
throughout his desperate adventure, rejoiced to see her brother thus
treacherously array himself in rash hostility to her protector. The toils
were beginning to close around the young king. Mithridates of Pergamus,
an adherent in whose fidelity and conduct Cæsar placed great reliance,
was advancing with the reinforcements he had been commissioned to collect
in Syria and the adjacent provinces. He reduced Pelusium, the key of
Egypt by land as Pharos was by sea, and crossed the Nile at the head of
the Delta, routing a division of the king’s troops which attempted to
check his progress. Ptolemy led forth his army to give battle to the
new invader, and was followed by Cæsar. The Romans came up with the
Egyptians, crossed the river in the face of their superior numbers, and
attacked them in their entrenchments, which, from their knowledge both of
the Macedonian and the Roman art of war, were probably not deficient in
scientific construction. But the shock of the veterans was irresistible.
The Egyptians fled, leaving great numbers slaughtered within the lines,
and falling into their own ditches in confused and mangled heaps. The
fugitives rushed to the channel of the Nile, where their vessels were
stationed, and crowded into them without order or measure. One of them in
which Ptolemy had taken refuge was thus overladen and sank.
This signal defeat, and still more the death of their unfortunate
sovereign, reduced the defenders of the monarchy to despair. The populace
of Alexandria issued from their gates to meet the conqueror in the
attitude of suppliants and with the religious ceremonies by which they
were wont to deprecate the wrath of their legitimate rulers. He entered
the city, and directed his course through the principal streets, where
the hostile barricades were levelled at his approach, till he reached the
quarters in which his own garrison was stationed. He now reconstituted
the government by appointing Cleopatra to the sovereignty, in conjunction
with another younger brother, while he sent Arsinoe under custody
to await his future triumph at Rome. The throne of his favourite he
pretended to secure by leaving a Roman force in Alexandria. The pride of
the republic was gratified by thus advancing another step towards the
complete subjugation of a country it had long coveted. Cæsar was anxious
that so much Roman blood as had been shed in his recent campaigns should
not appear to have sunk into the earth, and borne no fruit of glory
and advantage to the state. The whole of this episode in his eventful
history, his arrogant dictation to the rulers of a foreign people,
his seizing and keeping in captivity the person of the sovereign, his
discharging him on purpose that he might compromise himself by engaging
in direct hostilities, and his taking advantage of his death to settle
the succession and intrude a foreign army upon the new monarch, form
altogether a pregnant example of the craft and unscrupulousness of Roman
ambition.[b]
The ancients have given us no satisfactory solution of Cæsar’s object in
allowing himself to be entangled in this war. We cannot believe that he
was really intoxicated by a passion for Cleopatra, and surrendered his
judgment and policy to her fascinations. It is more probable that he had
fixed his eyes upon the treasures of Alexandria, to furnish himself with
the resources of which he stood greatly in need; for he still firmly
abstained from the expedients of plunder and confiscation within the
limits of the empire, and the great victory of Pharsalia though rich in
laurels had proved barren of emolument. He had yet another campaign to
undertake against the beaten party, and his troops, so often balked of
their prize, might require an instalment of the rewards of their final
triumph. But when once engaged in a contest with the Egyptians, it was
no longer politic, indeed it was hardly possible to withdraw. Cæsar
threw himself, as was his wont, heart and soul into the struggle, and
risked everything in a warfare which he felt to be ignoble. But when at
last fortune favoured his arms, he still allowed himself to remain three
months longer to consolidate the advantage he had gained. He had acquired
a footing in the wealthiest kingdom in the world; he had placed there a
sovereign of his own choice, whose throne he secured by means of a guard
of Romans, thus preparing the way for the reduction of the country at no
distant period to the form of a Roman province. As long as the remnant
of the Pompeians were still scattered and unprepared, he lost little
by neglecting to prosecute the war against them. He might wish them to
gather head again, that he might again strike them down in a single blow.
Indeed he now found leisure for a campaign against Pharnaces, the son of
Mithridates.
THE WAR WITH PHARNACES
[Sidenote: [47 B.C.]]
Though professing himself an ally of Pompey, the king of the Bosporus
had failed to bring his contingent to the republican camp. After the
battle of Pharsalia he hoped to profit by the ruin of his father’s foe,
and the confusion of the republic. He mustered his forces and drove
Deiotarus and Ariobarzanes from Armenia the lesser and Cappadocia. These
princes sought the succour of Cæsar’s lieutenant Calvinus, and though
they had just fought on the Pompeian side, he received instructions to
restore them. Calvinus however was routed by Pharnaces, who recovered his
father’s dominions in Asia Minor, and proceeded to expel from them the
Roman settlers. Cæsar quitted Alexandria in April (47), landed at Tarsus,
traversed Cilicia and Cappadocia, and reached the barbarian host at Zela
in Pontus. A bloody battle ensued in which the Roman was completely
victorious. The undisciplined hordes of the eastern sovereign once
routed never rallied again. Pharnaces escaped from the field, but he was
stripped of his possessions, and perished soon afterwards in an obscure
adventure. The war was finished in five days, and the terms in which
Cæsar is said to have announced it to the senate can hardly be called
extravagant: “I came, I saw, I conquered.” When he compared this eastern
“promenade” with the eight years’ struggle in which he had conquered
Gaul by inches, he might exclaim on the good fortune of Pompey who had
acquired at so little cost the reputation of a hero. After regulating
with all despatch the affairs of the province, he hastened back to Italy,
where his protracted absence had given occasion to serious disorders.
The measures which the dictator had enacted for the adjustment of debts
were not received with equal satisfaction in every quarter. As soon as he
was removed from the centre of affairs, the passions of the discontented
found vent, and a prætor named Cælius fanned the flame for objects of
personal ambition. Cælius was a clever, restless intriguer, and shrewd
observer of other men, as appears in his amusing letters to Cicero, but
altogether deficient in knowledge of himself, and much deceived in the
estimate he formed of his own powers. He raised the criminal hopes of
the worst and neediest citizens by proposing an abolition of debts; but
he was unable to direct the passions he had excited, or to cope with the
firmness of Servilius and the Cæsarian senate. He was declared incapable
of holding any magistracy, expelled from the curia, and finally repulsed
from the tribunate. He quitted Rome in disgust and fury, and had the
temerity to plunge into an insurrection. Joining himself with Milo, who
had left his place of exile and armed his gladiators in the south of
Italy, he traversed Campania and Magna Græcia, soliciting the aid of
outlaws and banditti. But the authorities of the capital had hardly time
to take measures against the rebels, before they were reassured by the
destruction of the one before Cosa, the other at Thurii.
CÆSAR RETURNS TO ROME
Cæsar’s protracted absence from the capital strongly marked the
confidence he felt in the stability of his arrangements there.
Notwithstanding these symptoms of transient and partial disaffection
the great mass of the citizens was firmly attached to him, and to this
result the ferocious menaces of the Pompeians had in no slight degree
contributed. We may imagine with what anxious suspense the upper classes
at Rome had awaited the event of the campaign in Illyricum; nor were
they altogether relieved by the report of the victory of Pharsalia. For
this welcome news was accompanied or closely followed by the assurance
that the victor was plunging still farther into the distant East, while
the forces of his enemy, supported by their innumerable navies, were
gathering once more in his rear. Nevertheless, his adherents insisted
on the statues of Pompey and Sulla being ignominiously removed from the
Forum, and his secret enemies were controlled by spies, and compelled to
join in the public demonstrations of satisfaction. Much of the anxiety
which still prevailed was removed by the account of the death of Pompey,
confirmed by the transmission of his signet to Rome. None could now
distrust the genius and the fortune of the irresistible conqueror. There
was no longer any hesitation in paying court to him. His flatterers
multiplied in the senate and the Forum, and only vied with one another
in suggesting new honours for his gratification. Decrees were issued
investing him with unbounded authority over the lives and fortunes of the
vanquished. He was armed with full powers for suppressing the republican
party which was again making head in Africa. In October, 48, Cæsar was
created dictator for a second time; and the powers of the tribunate
were decreed to him for the term of his life. He appointed Antony his
master of the horse, and commandant of the city. Brave, but violent and
dissolute, Antony possessed neither the vigour nor the prudence which
circumstances demanded.
The rumours which soon began to circulate at Rome of the perils which
Cæsar was incurring at Alexandria, rendered his conduct uncertain; he
hesitated to put down, with a firm hand, the disturbers of the republic,
whom the death of his master might make more powerful than himself.
The son-in-law of Cicero, Cornelius Dolabella, overwhelmed with debt,
had followed the example of Clodius in getting himself adopted by a
plebeian, and had thus acquired the tribunate. In this position he had
recommended himself, like Cælius, to the worst classes of the citizens,
by urging an abolition of debts. One of his colleagues resisted, and
both betook themselves to violence. For some time Antony looked on as if
uncertain which party to espouse; but a domestic affront from Dolabella,
who had intrigued with his wife, roused his passion; he attacked the
turbulent mob with arms, and filled the streets with the indiscriminate
slaughter of eight hundred citizens. He did not venture, however, to
punish the author of the disturbance, but contented himself with menaces
and precautions till the fortunate arrival of the dictator himself in
September, 47.
[Illustration: ROMAN BATTERING-RAM WITH TESTUDO]
Contrary to the apprehensions of many of the citizens Cæsar’s return was
marked by no proscription. He confined himself to the confiscation of
the estates of the men who still remained in arms against him; and that
of Pompey himself, whose sons were in the hostile camp, he set up to
public auction. A portion of them was bought by Antony, who ventured to
evade the due payment of the price. He conceived that his services might
command the trifling indulgence of release from a paltry debt. He found,
however, that his patron was in earnest, and prudently submitted to the
affront. The dictator remained only three months in Rome. Every moment
was fully occupied in the vast work of reconstructing the government; but
we know not what were the special measures enacted at this period, and
Cæsar’s legislation may fitly be reserved to be contemplated hereafter at
a single view. Two consuls were appointed for the remaining three months
of the year, and for the next ensuing Cæsar nominated himself for the
third time, together with Lepidus. He caused himself also to be again
created dictator. His partisans he loaded with places and honours, and
sated the populace with largesses. The soldiers demanded the fulfilment
of his repeated promises. Those of the tenth legion broke out into open
revolt, and ran from Campania to Rome to extort their claims. Cæsar
convoked them in the Field of Mars, approached them unattended, mounted
his tribunal, and demanded the statement of their grievance. At the
sight of their redoubted general their voices faltered, their murmurs
died away; they could only ask for their discharge. “I discharge you,
citizens,” replied the imperator; and they cowered under this disparaging
appellation, abashed and humiliated. To the fierce and haughty soldier
the peaceful name of _citizen_ seemed a degradation. They entreated to
be restored to their ensigns, and submitted to severe punishment in
expiation of their fault. This simple incident is a key to the history
of the times. This application of the title of citizen, and the effect
it produced, show plainly that the basis of Cæsar’s force was purely
military, and that Cæsar himself knew it. This was the point at which
every party leader in turn had tried for years to arrive, and Cæsar had
succeeded.
THE AFRICAN WAR
As soon as this sedition was repressed Cæsar departed to crush the
remnant of his enemies assembled in Africa. The defeated host had
been scattered in various directions, but the largest division of the
fugitives had made its way to Dyrrhachium, and there deliberated on its
further movements. Cato, to whom the command was offered, waived it
in favour of Cicero, as his superior in rank; but the orator declined
to associate himself further in the honours and perils of a fruitless
struggle, and departed mournfully for Italy. His life was with difficulty
preserved from the fury of Cneius, the elder son of the great Pompey, a
man of ungovernable passions and slender capacity. Shortly afterwards
Scipio assumed the command of the main body, and carried it to Utica in
the province of Africa. Cato at the head of another division skirted the
coasts of Greece and Asia, and picked up some scattered adherents of
the cause. He followed in the track of Pompey, but when the news of his
chief’s assassination reached him, he landed on the shore of Libya, and
demanded admission within the walls of Cyrene. The natives shut their
gates; but Cato, always loath to exercise any unprofitable severity,
generously abstained from chastising them. Anxious now to effect a
junction with the remainder of his friends, he coasted westward as far as
the lesser Syrtis, and then plunged with his little army into the sandy
desert. The seven days’ march through this inhospitable region, torrid
with heat and infested with serpents, was justly considered one of the
noblest exploits of the Roman legionaries. The poet of the _Pharsalia_
exalts it above the three triumphs of Pompey and the victories of Marius
over the tyrant of Numidia. He turns with pardonable enthusiasm from the
deified monsters, the Caligulas and Neros of his own day, to hail its
achiever as the true Father of his Country, the only worthy object of a
free man’s idolatry.
The arrival of Cato at the headquarters of the republicans in Utica was
quickly followed by that of Cneius Pompey, and in the course of the year
47 the remains of the great host of Pharsalia were assembled with many
reinforcements under the banners of Scipio. These forces amounted to not
less than ten complete legions, and Juba, who could bring one hundred
and twenty elephants into the field, besides innumerable squadrons of
light cavalry, had promised his assistance. The officers began to brag of
their future triumphs almost as loudly as before their recent disasters.
Their defiance was re-echoed to the opposite shores of Italy, and caused
fresh dismay to the time-servers, who had abandoned the Pompeian cause
on the event of its first discomfiture. But this force, numerous as it
was, was not in a condition, it would seem, to choose a distant field
of operations. The want of money may have compelled its chief still to
act on the defensive, and await through a whole year the expected attack
of the enemy. Nor were these chiefs themselves unaffected by personal
jealousies. Scipio and Varus contended for the command, the one as the
foremost in rank and dignity, the other as the legitimate proconsul of
the province; while Juba, conscious of his own importance to the cause,
affected to lord it over both. Cato alone continued still to act with
his usual simplicity of purpose and patriotic devotion. But his noble
demeanour rebuked the selfishness of his associates, and they contrived
to remove him from their counsels by charging him with the defence of
Utica, while they shifted their own quarters to the neighbourhood of
Hadrumetum. The brave philosopher rejoiced that he was not compelled to
draw his sword in civil strife, while he busied himself not the less
earnestly in the collection of stores and preparation of defence. Of all
the professed asserters of Roman liberty he alone really lamented the
necessity of arming in her cause; from the first outbreak of the war he
had refused to trim his venerable locks or shave his grizzled beard, and
from the fatal day of Pharsalia he had persisted in sitting at his frugal
meals, and denied himself the indulgence of a couch.
[Sidenote: [47-46 B.C.]]
A whole year had now passed, while the republicans contemplated with
folded arms the perils Cæsar had surmounted in Alexandria, the victory he
had gained over Pharnaces, and the brilliant reception he had met with
in Rome. Cæsar assembled six legions and two thousand horse at Lilybæum
in Sicily, and in the middle of October 47, he appeared off the African
coast with the first division of his forces, and summoned the republicans
in their camp at Hadrumetum to surrender to “Cæsar the imperator.” “There
is no imperator here but Scipio,” they replied, and inflicted death upon
his envoy as a deserter. The dictator sailed on to Leptis, and was there
invited to take shelter, while he awaited the arrival of the rest of his
armament.
While these reinforcements were coming slowly in he was attacked by
Scipio, and subjected to annoyance and peril from the movements of the
enemy’s cavalry. Labienus, who frequently charged him at the head of the
Roman horse, distinguished himself by the bitter taunts with which he
addressed the veterans whom he had so often led to victory. But Cæsar
maintained himself in a fortified position till he could move forward
with a force of five legions. At the same time the alliance he had formed
with the Mauretanian kings, Bogudes and Bocchus, the jealous rivals
of the Numidians, enabled him to draw off Juba to the defence of his
own capital Cirta. He pushed on, offering battle, which Scipio, though
with double his numbers, steadily refused, until Juba returned with
his vaunted elephants and cavalry. The necessities of the Roman chiefs
compelled them to submit to revolting indignities at the hands of this
barbarian ally. He forbade Scipio the use of the imperator’s purple
cloak, which he declared to belong only to kings. When he issued his
royal mandates to the Roman officers, they were observed to be even more
punctually obeyed than the orders of the general himself.
At last on the 4th of April the armies met on the field of Thapsus.
On this occasion many of Cæsar’s men were fresh recruits, and he was
not without some misgivings about their steadiness. But they were not
less impatient for the onset than the veterans, whom their general
recommended to their imitation, and loudly demanded the signal to
engage. While he still hesitated, checking with hand and voice the
impatient swaying of the lines, suddenly the blast of a single trumpet
burst forth on the right wing. The impetuous ferocity of the tenth legion
could no longer brook restraint; they had raised the signal unbidden;
and now the whole army rushed forward in one unbroken body, overpowering
their officers’ efforts to detain them. Cæsar, when he beheld rank after
rank pouring by him, without the possibility of recall, gave the word
“Good luck” to his attendants, and spurred his horse to the head of his
battalions. The combat was speedily decided. The elephants, thrown into
confusion by the first discharge of stones and arrows, turned upon the
ranks they were placed to cover, and broke in pieces their array. The
native cavalry, dismayed at losing their accustomed support, were the
first to abandon the field. Scipio’s legions made little resistance;
they sought shelter behind their entrenchments. But their officers had
fled, and the men, left without a commander, rushed in quest of their
discomfited allies. They found the Numidian camp in the hands of the
enemy; they begged for quarter, but little mercy was shown them, and
Cæsar himself beheld with horror a frightful massacre which he was
powerless to control. Scipio escaped to the coast, and embarked with
others for Spain, but was intercepted and slain.[119] Juba and Petreius
fled together, and sought refuge within the walls of Zama. But the
Numidians rejoiced in the defeat of their tyrants and refused them solace
or shelter. The fugitives, repulsed in every quarter, and disdaining to
solicit the victor’s clemency, placed themselves at a banquet together,
drank their fill of wine, and challenged each other to mortal combat.
Petreius, the elder of the two, was despatched by his opponent, who then
threw himself upon his own sword.[120]
The rout of Thapsus was known at Utica on the same evening. On the
morrow Cato convened the Roman officers and residents, and laid before
them the state of their affairs. Calmly and cheerfully he enumerated his
means of defence, and desired them to decide for themselves whether they
would resist the conqueror, or seek safety in flight or capitulation.
The knights and senators, despairing of pardon, would have held out to
the uttermost; but the traders and men of peace, who had long settled in
Utica, and were conscious that they had done nothing hitherto to provoke
the wrath of the assailant, insisted on a timely surrender. When it was
known that Cæsar was approaching, Cato caused all the gates to be closed
except that which led to the sea, and urged all that would to betake
themselves to the ships. He dismissed his personal friends, of whom a few
only, and among them his own son, insisted on remaining with him; for he
had plainly intimated that for his own part he would not quit his post.
With these cherished associates he sat down to supper, and discoursed
with more than his usual fervour on the highest themes of philosophy,
especially on the famous paradox of the stoics, that the good man alone
is free, and all the bad are slaves. His companions could not fail to
guess the secret purpose over which he was brooding. They betrayed their
anxiety only by silent gestures; but Cato, observing the depression of
their spirits, strove to reanimate them, and divert their thoughts by
turning the conversation to topics of present interest.
[Sidenote: [46 B.C.]]
The embarkation was at this moment proceeding, and Cato repeatedly
inquired who had already put out to sea, and what were the prospects
of the voyage. Retiring to his chamber he took up the _Dialogue on the
Soul_, in which Plato recorded his dying master’s last aspirations after
immortality. After reading for some time he looked up and observed that
his sword had been removed. In the irritation of the moment he gave way
to a burst of violence, such as often marked the behaviour of the Roman
master to his slave; calling his attendant to his presence he struck
him on the mouth, bruising his own hand with the blow. He then sent
for his son and friends, and rebuked them sharply for their unworthy
precaution; “as if,” he said, “I needed a sword to kill myself, and might
not, if I chose, put an end to my existence by dashing my head against
the wall, or merely by holding my breath.” Reassured perhaps for the
moment by the calmness of his demeanour, they restored him his weapon,
and at his earnest desire once more left him alone. At midnight, still
anxious about those who were departing, he sent once again to inquire
if the embarkation were completed. The messenger returned with the
assurance that the last vessel was now on the point of leaving the quay.
Thereupon Cato threw himself on his bed, as if about to take his rest
for the night; but when all was quiet he seized his sword and thrust it
into his stomach. The wound was not immediately mortal, and the victim
rolled groaning on the floor. The noise at once summoned his anxious
attendants. A surgeon was at hand, and the sufferer was unconscious
while the protruding intestines were replaced, and the gash sewn up. But
on coming to himself he repulsed his disconsolate friends, and tearing
open the fatal wound, expired with the same dogged resolution which had
distinguished every action of his life.
[Illustration: DEATH OF CATO
(From a drawing by Mirys)]
Cato had no cause to despair of retaining life under the new tyranny.
At an earlier period he had meditated, in such a contingency, seeking
refuge in retirement and philosophy. But his views of the highest good
had deepened and saddened with the fall of the men and things he most
admired. He now calmly persuaded himself that with the loss of free
action the end of his being had failed of its accomplishment. He regarded
his career as prematurely closed, and deemed it his duty to extinguish an
abortive existence.[121] Cæsar, when he heard of his self-destruction,
lamented that he had been robbed of the pleasure of pardoning him, and
to his comrades in arms he exhibited, according to the most credible
accounts, the same clemency by which he had so long distinguished
himself. But the same man who could now speak and act thus generously,
did not scruple, at a later period, to reply to Cicero’s panegyric with
a book which he called the _Anti-Cato_, in which he ridiculed the sage’s
vain pretensions, and scoffed at him for raking in his brother’s ashes
for the golden ornaments of his pyre, for transferring to Hortensius the
wife who had borne him as many children as he desired, and taking the
widow to his arms again enriched with a magnificent dowry. Could the
proud philosopher have anticipated a time when the wantonness of power
might sport unchecked with the good fame of its victims, he would have
shrunk from such moral degradation with greater horror than from the
servitude of the body.[c]
SALLUST’S COMPARISON OF CÆSAR AND CATO
“After hearing and reading of the many glorious achievements which the
Roman people had performed at home and in the field, by sea as well as by
land, I happened to be led to consider what had been the great foundation
of such illustrious deeds. I knew that the Romans had frequently, with
small bodies of men, encountered vast armies of the enemy; I was aware
that they had carried on wars with limited forces against powerful
sovereigns; that they had often sustained, too, the violence of adverse
fortune; yet that, while the Greeks excelled them in eloquence, the Gauls
surpassed them in military glory. After much reflection, I felt convinced
that the eminent virtue of a few citizens had been the cause of all
these successes; and hence it had happened that poverty had triumphed
over riches, and a few over a multitude. And even in later times, when
the state had become corrupted by luxury and indolence, the republic
still supported itself, by its own strength, under the misconduct of its
generals and magistrates; when, as if the parent stock were exhausted,
there was certainly not produced at Rome, for many years, a single
citizen of eminent ability. Within my recollection, however, there arose
two men of remarkable powers, though of very different character, Marcus
Cato and Caius Cæsar, whom, since the subject has brought them before me,
it is not my intention to pass in silence, but to describe, to the best
of my ability, the disposition and manners of each.
“Their birth, age, and eloquence, were nearly on an equality; their
greatness of mind similar, as was also their reputation, though attained
by different means. Cæsar grew eminent by generosity and munificence;
Cato by the integrity of his life. Cæsar was esteemed for his humanity
and benevolence; austereness had given dignity to Cato. Cæsar acquired
renown by giving, relieving, and pardoning; Cato by bestowing nothing.
In Cæsar there was a refuge for the unfortunate; in Cato, destruction
for the bad. In Cæsar, his easiness of temper was admired; in Cato, his
firmness. Cæsar, in fine, had applied himself to a life of energy and
activity; intent upon the interests of his friends, he was neglectful
of his own; he refused nothing to others that was worthy of acceptance,
while for himself he desired great power, the command of an army, and a
new war in which his talents might be displayed. But Cato’s ambition was
that of temperance, discretion, and, above all, of austerity; he did not
contend in splendour with the rich, or in faction with the seditious,
but with the brave in fortitude, with the modest in simplicity, with the
temperate in abstinency; he was more desirous to be, than to appear,
virtuous; and thus, the less he courted popularity, the more it pursued
him.”[e][122]
FOOTNOTES
[119] [Florus[d] says: “Scipio got off in a ship but, as the enemy
overtook him, he thrust his sword into his bowels; and when some one
asked where he was, he returned this answer: ‘The general is well.’”
Appian[f] says: “he ran his sword through his body, and threw himself
into the sea.”]
[120] [Says Florus[d]: “Petreius slew both Juba and himself; and the
half-consumed meats and funeral dishes were mixed with the blood of a
king and a Roman.”]
[121] [Florus[d] in Roman fashion says: “Hearing of the defeat of his
party, he did not hesitate to die; but even cheerfully, as became a wise
man, hastened his own death.”]
[122] [Sallust’s comparison of Cæsar and Cato should not mislead the
reader as to the importance of the latter, who in fact exercised little
influence on the great events of his age.]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]