It was agreed at the conference of Lucca that Pompey should rule Spain,

but it did not suit his plans to go to that distant country. He

preferred to remain at Rome, where he thought that he might do

something that would establish his influence with the people, and give

him the advantage over his colleagues that they were each seeking to

get over him. In order to court popularity, he built the first stone

theatre that Rome had ever seen, capable of accommodating the enormous

number of forty thousand spectators, and opened it with a splendid

exhibition (B.C. 55). [Footnote: This theatre was built after the model

of one that Pompey had seen at Mitylene, and stood between the Campus

Martius and Circus Flaminius. Adjoining it was a hall affording shelter

for the spectators in bad weather, in which Julius Cæsar was

assassinated. The Roman theatres had no roofs, and, in early times, no

seats. At this period there were seats of stone divided by broad

passages for the convenience of the audience in going in and out. A

curtain, which was drawn down instead of up, served to screen the

actors from the spectators. Awnings were sometimes used to protect the

audience from rain and sun. A century before this time the Senate had

stopped the construction of a theatre, and prohibited dramatic

exhibitions as subversive of good morals. The actors usually wore

masks. See page 159.] Day after day the populace were admitted, and on

each occasion new games and plays were prepared for their

gratification. For the first time a rhinoceros was shown; eighteen

elephants were killed by fierce Libyan hunters, and five hundred

African lions lost their lives in the combats to which they were

forced; the vehement, tragic actor Æsopus, then quite aged, came out of

his retirement for the occasion, and uttered his last words on the

stage, the juncture being all the more remarkable from the fact that

his strength failed him in the midst of a very emphatic part; gymnasts

contended, gladiators fought to the death, and the crowd cheered, but,

alas for Pompey! the cheers expressed merely temporary enjoyment at the

scenes before them, and did not at all indicate that he had been

received to their hearts.

Crassus, in the meantime, was thinking that he too must accomplish

something great or he would be left behind by both of his associates.

He reflected that Cæsar had won distinction in Gaul, and Pompey by

overcoming the pirates and conquering the East, and determined to show

his skill as a warrior in his new province, Parthia. There was no cause

for war against the people of that distant land, but a cause might

easily be found, or a war begun without one, the great object aimed at

being the extension of the sovereignty of Rome, and marking the name of

Crassus high on the pillar of fame. This would surely, he thought, give

him the utmost popularity. Thus, in the year 54, he set out for Syria,

and the world saw each of the triumvirs busily engaged in pushing his

own cause in his own way. Ten years later not one of them was alive to

enjoy that which they had all so earnestly sought.

[Illustration: AN ELEPHANT IN ARMOR]

It is not necessary to follow Crassus minutely in his campaign. He

spent a winter in Syria, and in the spring of 53 set out for the still

distant East, crossing the Euphrates, and plunging into the desert

wastes of old Mesopotamia, where he was betrayed into the hands of the

enemy, and lost, not far from Carrhæ (Charran or Haran), the City of

Nahor, to which the patriarch Abraham migrated with his family from Ur

of the Chaldees. Thus there remained but two of the three ambitious

seekers of popular applause.

Pompey had been in some degree attached to Cæsar through his daughter

Julia, whom he had married; but she died in the same year that Crassus

went to the East, and from that time he gravitated toward the

aristocrats, with whom his former affiliations had been. The ten years

of Cæsar's government were to expire on the 1st of January, 48, and it

became important for him to obtain the office of consul for the

following year; but the senate and Pompey were equally interested to

have him deprived of the command of the army before receiving any new

appointment. The reason for this was that Cato [Footnote: This Cato was

great-grandson of Cato the Censor (see page 152), was a man who

endeavored to remind the world constantly of his illustrious descent by

imitating the severe independence of his great ancestor, and by

assuming marked peculiarity of dress and behavior. His life, blighted

by an early disappointment in love, was unfortunate to the last. He was

a consistent, but often ridiculous, leader of the minority opposed to

the triumvirs.] had declared that as soon as Cæsar should become a

private citizen he would bring him to trial for illegal acts of which

his enemies accused him; and it was plain to him, no less than to all

the world, that if Pompey were in authority at the time, conviction

would certainly follow such a trial. One of Cicero's correspondents

said on this subject: "Pompey has absolutely determined not to allow

Cæsar to be elected consul on any terms except a previous resignation

of his army and his government, while Cæsar is convinced that he must

inevitably fall if he has once let go his army."

In the year 50, Cæsar went into Cisalpine Gaul, that is, into the

region which is now known as Northern Italy, and was received as a

great conqueror. He then went over the mountains to Farther Gaul and

reviewed his army--the army that he had so often led to victory. He did

not lose sight of the fact that it was now, more than ever before,

necessary for him to have some one in Rome who would look out for his

interests in his absences, and he bethought himself of a man whom he

had known from his youth, Caius Scribonius Curio by name, a spendthrift

whom he had vainly tried to inspire with higher ambition than the mere

gratification of his appetites. He was married to Fulvia, a scheming

woman of light character, widow of Clodius (who afterwards become wife

of Marc Antony), and he was harassed by enormous debts. Though Curio

was allied to the party of Pompey, Cæsar won him over by paying his

debts, [Footnote: The debts of this young man have been estimated as

high as $2,500,000, and their vastness shows by contrast how wealthy

private citizens sometimes became at this epoch.] and he then began

cautiously to turn his back upon his former associates. At first, he

pretended to act against Cæsar as usual; then he cautiously assumed the

appearance of neutrality; and, when the proper opportunity arrived, he

threw all the weight of his influence in favor of the master to whom he

had sold himself. Curio was not the only person whom Cæsar bought, for

he distributed immense sums among other citizens of influence, as he

had not hesitated to do before, and they quietly interposed objections

to any movement against him, though outwardly holding to Pompey's

party.

The senate, assisted by the solemn jugglery of the pontiffs, who had

charge of the calendar and were accustomed to shorten or lengthen the

year according as their political inclinations impelled them, proposed

to weaken Cæsar's position by obliging him to resign his authority

November 13th, though his term did not expire, as we know, until the

following January.

Under these circumstances, Curio, then one of the tribunes of the

people, began his tactics by plausibly urging that it would be only

fair that Pompey, who was not far from the city at the head of an army,

should also give up his authority at the same time before entering the

city. Pompey had no intention of doing this, though everybody saw that

it was reasonable, and Curio took courage and went a step farther,

denouncing him as evidently designing to make himself tyrant.

[Footnote: A tyrant was simply a ruler with dictatorial powers, and it

was not until he abused his authority that he became the odious

character indicated by the modern meaning of the title; but any thing

that looked like a return to the government of a king was hateful to

the Romans.] However, in order to keep up his appearance of

impartiality, he approved a declaration that unless both generals

should lay down their authority, they ought to be denounced as public

enemies, and that war should be immediately declared against them.

Pompey became indignant at this. Finally it was decided that each

commander should be ordered to give up one legion, to be used against

the Parthians, in a war which it was pretended would soon open. Pompey

readily assented, but craftily managed to perform his part without any

loss; for he called upon Cæsar to return to him a legion that he had

borrowed three years before. The senate then sent both legions to Capua

instead of to Asia, intending, in due time, to use them against Cæsar.

Cæsar gave up the two legions willingly, because he thought that with

the help of the army that remained, and with the assistance of the

citizens whom he had bribed, he would be able to take care of himself

in any emergency, but nevertheless he endeavored to bind the soldiers

of these legions more firmly to him by giving a valuable present to

each one as he went away. [Footnote: One of Cicero's correspondents

writing in January, 50, says in a postscript: "I told you above that

Curio was freezing, but he finds it warm enough just at present,

everybody being hotly engaged in pulling him to pieces. Just because he

failed to get an intercalary month, without the slightest ado he has

stepped over to the popular side, and begun to harangue in favor of

Cæsar." In replying to this, Cicero wrote: "The paragraph you added was

indeed a stab from the point of your pen. What! Curio now become a

supporter of Cæsar. Who could ever have expected this but myself? for,

upon my life, I really did expect it. Good heavens! how I miss our

laughing together over it." ] Not long after this Curio went to Ravenna

to consult Cæsar.

We see on our maps a little stream laid down as the boundary between

Italy and Gaul. It is called the Rubicon; but when we go to Italy and

look for the stream itself we do not find it so easily, because there

are at least two rivers that may be taken for it. However, it is not of

much importance for the purposes of history which was actually the

boundary. North of the Rubicon we see the ancient city of Ravenna,

which stood in old times like Venice, on islands, and like it was

intersected in all directions by canals through which the tide poured

volumes of purifying salt water twice every day. Now the canals are all

filled up, and the city is four miles from the sea, so large have been

the deposits from the muddy waters that flow down the rivers into the

Adriatic at that place. Thirty-three miles south of Ravenna and nine

miles from the Rubicon, the map shows us another ancient town called

Ariminum. connected directly with Rome by the Flaminian road, which was

built some two hundred years before the time of which we are writing.

Ravenna was the last town in the territory of Cæsar on the way to Rome,

and there he took his position to watch proceedings, for it was not

allowed him to leave his province.

[Illustration: ITALIAN AND GERMAN ALLIES, COMSTUMES, AND ARMOR.]

On the first of January, 49, Curio arrived at Rome with a letter from

Cæsar offering to give up his command provided Pompey would do the

same. The consuls at that time were partisans of Pompey, and they at

first refused to allow the letter to be read; but the tribunes of the

people were in favor of Cæsar, and they forced the senators to listen

to it. A violent debate followed, and it was finally voted that unless

Cæsar should disband his army within a certain time he should be

considered an enemy of the state, and be treated accordingly. On the

sixth of the same month the power of dictators was given to the

consuls, and the two tribunes who favored Cæsar--one of whom was Marc

Antony--fled to him in disguise, for there was no safety for them in

Rome.

Now there was war. On the one side we have Pompey, proud and confident,

but unprepared because he was so confident; and on the other, Cæsar,

cool and unperturbed, relying not only on his army, but also upon the

friends that his money and tact had made among the soldiers with him,

no less than among those at Capua and elsewhere, upon which his

opponent also depended.

The moment is one that has been fixed in the memory of men for all time

by a proverbial expression based upon an apochryphal event that might

well have happened upon the banks of the little Rubicon. As soon as

Cæsar heard of the action of the senate he assembled his soldiers and

asked them if they would support him. They replied that they would

follow him wherever he commanded. The story runs that he then ordered

the army to advance upon Ariminum, but that when he arrived at the

little dividing river he ordered a halt, and meditated upon his course.

He knew that when he crossed that line blood would surely flow from

thousands of Romans, and he asked himself whether he was right in

bringing such woes upon his countrymen, and how his act would be

represented in history.

It is not improbable that the great conqueror entertained thoughts like

these, for he was a writer of history as well as one of the mightiest

makers of it; but he mentions nothing of the sort in his own story of

the advance, and we may well doubt whether it was not invented by

Suetonius, or some other historian, who wished to make his account as

picturesque as possible. It is said that after these thoughts Cæsar

exclaimed: "The die is cast; let us go where the gods and the injustice

of our enemies direct us!" He then urged his charger through the

stream.

There had been confusion in the capital many a time before, but

probably never was there such a commotion as arose when it was known

that the conqueror of Gaul, the man who had for years marched through

that great region as a mighty monarch, was on the way towards it. That

the consuls were endowed with dictatorial power for the emergency,

availed little. A few days before, some one had asked Pompey what he

should do for an army if Cæsar should leave his province with his

soldiers, and he replied haughtily that he should need but to stamp on

the ground and soldiers would spring up. Now he stamped, and stamped in

vain; no volunteers came at his call. The venerable senators,

successors of those who had remained in their seats when the barbarians

were coming, hastened away for dear life; they did not make the usual

sacrifices; they did not take their goods and chattels; they even

forgot the public treasure, which would have been of the utmost use to

them and to the cause of Pompey.

Cæsar's army supported him as a whole, but there was one self-important

man among the leaders of it who proved an exception. Titus Labienus,

who had been with Cæsar in Spain, who had performed some brilliant

feats when Vercingetorix revolted, and who was in all his master's

confidence, had allowed his little mind to become filled with pride and

ambition until he began to believe that he was at the bottom of Cæsar's

success, and probably as great a general as he! He was ready to allow

the Pompeians to beguile him from his allegiance, and at last went over

to them. Cæsar, to show how little he cared for the defection of

Labienus, hastened to send his baggage after him; but in Rome he was

welcomed with acclamations. Cicero, the trimmer, exclaimed: "Labienus

has behaved quite like a hero!" and believed that Cæsar had received a

tremendous blow by his defection. This deserter's act had, however, no

effect whatever on the progress of Cæsar, who, though it was the middle

of winter, marched onwards, receiving the surrender of city after city,

giving to all the conquered citizens the most liberal terms, and thus

binding them firmly to his cause. [Footnote: As Cæsar approached Rome,

Cato took flight, and, determined to mourn until death the unhappy lot

of his country, allowed his hair to grow, and resigned himself to

unavailing grief. Too weak and perplexed to stand against opposing

troubles, he fondly thought that resolutions and laws and a temporizing

policy might avail to bring happiness and order to a distraught

commonwealth.]

Pompey did not even attempt to interrupt the triumphant career of his

enemy, but determined to find safety out of Italy, and hastened to

Brundusium as fast as possible. After mastering the whole country,

Cæsar reached the same port before Pompey was able to get away, and

began a siege, in the progress of which Pompey escaped. Cæsar was not

able to follow, on account of a want of vessels. He therefore turned

back to Rome, where he encountered no opposition, except from Metellus,

a tribune of the people, who attempted to keep him from taking

possession of the gold in the temple of Saturn, traditionally supposed

to have been that which Camillus had recovered from Brennus. It was

intended for use in case the Gauls should make another invasion, but

Cæsar said that he had conquered the Gauls, and they need be feared no

more. "Stand aside, young man!" he exclaimed; "it is easier for me to

do than to say!" Metellus saw that it was not worth while to discuss

the question with such a man, and prudently stepped aside.

Cæsar did not remain at Rome at this time, but hastened to Spain, where

partisans of Pompey were in arms, leaving Marc Antony in charge of

Italy in general, and Marcus Lepidus responsible for order in the city.

Both of these men were destined to become more prominent in the future.

At the same time, legions were sent to Sicily and Sardinia, and their

success, which was easily gained, preserved the city from a scarcity of

grain. Cæsar himself overcame the Pompeians in Spain, and, in

accordance with his policy in Italy, dismissed them unharmed. Most of

their soldiers were taken into his own army. He then felt free to

continue his movements against Pompey himself, and returned to the

capital.

For eleven days Cæsar was dictator of Rome, receiving the office from

Lepidus, who had been authorized to give it by those senators who had

not fled with Pompey. In that short period he passed laws calling home

the exiles; giving back their rights as citizens to the children of

those who had suffered in the Sullan proscription; and affording relief

to debtors. Then, causing the senate to declare him consul, he started

for Brundusium to pursue his rival. It was the fourth of January, 48,

when he sailed for the coast of Epirus, and the following day he landed

on the soil of Greece. He met Pompey at Dyrrachium, but his force was

so small that he was defeated. He then retreated to the southeast, and

another battle was fought on the plain of Pharsalia, in Thessaly, June

6, 48. The forces were still very unequal, Pompey having more than two

soldiers to one of Cæsar's; but Cæsar's were the better warriors, and

Pompey was totally defeated. Feeling that every thing was now lost,

Pompey sought an asylum in Egypt; and there he was assassinated by

order of the reigning monarch, who hoped to win the favor of Cæsar in

his contest with his sister, Cleopatra, who claimed the throne.

Cæsar followed his adversary with his usual promptness, and when he had

reached Egypt was shown his rival's severed head, from which he turned

with real or feigned sadness and tears. This alarmed the king and his

partisans, and they still further lost heart when Cleopatra won Cæsar

to her support by the charms of her personal beauty.

After a brief struggle known as the Alexandrine War, which closed in

March, 47, Cæsar placed the queen and her brother on the throne. It was

at this time that the great Library and Museum at Alexandria were

destroyed by fire. Four hundred thousand volumes were said to have been

burned. The next month Cæsar was called from Egypt to Pontus, where a

son of Mithridates was in arms, and, after a campaign of five days, he

gained a decisive victory at a place called Zela, boastfully announcing

his success to the senate in three short words: "_Veni, vidi, vici_"

(I came, I saw, I overcame). In September, Cæsar was again in Rome,

where he remained only three months, arranging affairs. There were

fears lest he should make a proscription, but he proceeded to no such

extremity, exercising his characteristic clemency towards those who had

been opposed to him. A revolt occurred at this time among the soldiers

at Capua, and they marched to Rome, but Cæsar cowed them by a display

of haughty coolness.

The remnant of the adherents of Pompey gathered together and went to

Africa, whither Cæsar followed, and after a short campaign defeated

them on the field of Thapsus, April 6, 46. They were commanded by

Scipio, father-in-law of Pompey, and by Cato, who had accepted the

position after it had been declined by Cicero, his superior in rank.

After the defeat of Thapsus Cato retreated to Utica, where he

deliberately put an end to his life after occupying several hours in

reading Plato's _Phædo_, a dialogue on the immortality of the

soul. From the place of his death he is known in history as Cato of

Utica.

When the news of this final victory reached Rome Cæsar was appointed

dictator for ten years, and a thanksgiving lasting forty days was

decreed. He was also endowed with a newly created office-that of

Overseer of Public Morals (_Præfectus Morum_). Temples and statues

were dedicated to his honor; a golden chair was assigned for his use

when he sat in the senate; the month Quintilis was renamed after him

Julius (July); and other unheard of honors were thrust upon him by a

servile senate. He was also called the Father of his Country (a title

that had been before borne by Camillus and Cicero), and four triumphs

were celebrated for him. On his own part, Cæsar feasted the people at

twenty-two thousand tables, and caused combats of wild animals and

gladiators to be celebrated in the arenas beneath awnings of the

richest silks.

The great conqueror now prepared to carry out schemes of a beneficent

nature which would have been of great value to the world; but their

achievement was interfered with, first by war and then by his own

death. He intended to unify the regions controlled by the republic by

abolishing offensive political distinctions, and to develop them by

means of a geographical survey which would have occupied years to

complete under the most competent management; and he wished to codify

the Roman law, which had been growing up into a universal

jurisprudence, a work which Cicero looked upon as a hopeless though

brilliant vision, and one that Justinian actually accomplished, though

not until six hundred years later. He contemplated also the erection of

vast public works. His knowledge of astronomy led him to accomplish one

important change, for which we have reason to remember him to-day. He

reformed the calendar, substituting the one used until 1582 (known from

him as the Julian calendar) for that which was then current. [Footnote:

The Gregorian calendar was introduced in the Catholic states of Europe

in 1582, but owing to popular prejudice England did not begin to use it

until 1752, in which year September 3d became, by act of Parliament,

September 14th. Usage in America followed that of the mother country.]

Three hundred and fifty-five days had been called a year from the time

of Numa Pompilius, but as that number did not correspond with the

actual time of the revolution of the earth around the sun, it had been

customary to intercalate a month, every second year, of twenty-two and

twenty-three days alternately, and one day had also been added to make

a fortunate number. This made the adaptation of the nominal year to the

actual a matter of great intricacy, the duty being intrusted to the

chief pontiffs. These officers were often corrupted, and managed to

effect political ends from time to time by the addition or omission of

the intercalary days and months. At this time the civil calendar was

some weeks in advance of the actual time, so that the consuls, for

example, who should have entered office January 1, 46, really assumed

their power October 13, 47. The Julian calendar made the year to

consist of 365 days and six hours, which was correct within a few

minutes; but, by the time of Pope Gregory XIII, this had amounted to

ten days, and a new reform was instituted. Cæsar now added ninety days

to the year in order to make the year 45 begin at the proper time,

inserting a new month between the 23d and 24th of February, and adding

two new months after the end of November, so that the long year thus

manufactured (445 days) was very justly called the "year of confusion",

or "the last year of confusion."

The Story of Rome from the Earliest Times to the End of the Republic · 第 14 / 19 段