_Being the only true and reliable account ever published; taken from
the "Roman Daily Evening Fasces," of the date of that tremendous
occurrence._
Nothing in the world affords a newspaper reporter so much
satisfaction as gathering up the details of a bloody and mysterious
murder, and writing them up with aggravating circumstantiality. He
takes a living delight in this labor of love--for such it is to
him, especially if he knows that all the other papers have gone to
press, and his will be the only one that will contain the dreadful
intelligence. A feeling of regret has often come over me that I was
not reporting in Rome when Cæsar was killed--reporting on an
evening paper, and the only one in the city, and getting at least
twelve hours ahead of the morning-paper boys with this most
magnificent "item" that ever fell to the lot of the craft. Other
events have happened as startling as this, but none that possessed
so peculiarly all the characteristics of the favorite "item" of the
present day, magnified into grandeur and sublimity by the high
rank, fame, and social and political standing of the actors in it.
However, as I was not permitted to report Cæsar's assassination in
the regular way, it has at least afforded me rare satisfaction to
translate the following able account of it from the original Latin
of the _Roman Daily Evening Fasces_ of that date--second edition.
"Our usually quiet city of Rome was thrown into a state of wild
excitement yesterday by the occurrence of one of those bloody
affrays which sicken the heart and fill the soul with fear, while
they inspire all thinking men with forebodings for the future of
a city where human life is held so cheaply, and the gravest laws
are so openly set at defiance. As the result of that affray, it
is our painful duty, as public journalists, to record the death
of one of our most esteemed citizens--a man whose name is known
wherever this paper circulates, and whose fame it has been our
pleasure and our privilege to extend, and also to protect from
the tongue of slander and falsehood, to the best of our poor
ability. We refer to Mr. J. Cæsar, the Emperor-elect.
"The facts of the case, as nearly as our reporter could
determine them from the conflicting statements of eyewitnesses,
were about as follows:--The affair was an election row, of
course. Nine-tenths of the ghastly butcheries that disgrace the
city nowadays grow out of the bickerings and jealousies and
animosities engendered by these accursed elections. Rome would be
the gainer by it if her very constables were elected to serve a
century; for in our experience we have never even been able to
choose a dog-pelter without celebrating the event with a dozen
knockdowns and a general cramming of the station-house with
drunken vagabonds overnight. It is said that when the immense
majority for Cæsar at the polls in the market was declared the
other day, and the crown was offered to that gentleman, even his
amazing unselfishness in refusing it three times was not
sufficient to save him from the whispered insults of such men as
Casca, of the Tenth Ward, and other hirelings of the disappointed
candidate, hailing mostly from the Eleventh and Thirteenth and
other outside districts, who were overheard speaking ironically
and contemptuously of Mr. Cæsar's conduct upon that occasion.
"We are further informed that there are many among us who think
they are justified in believing that the assassination of Julius
Cæsar was a put-up thing--a cut-and-dried arrangement, hatched by
Marcus Brutus and a lot of his hired roughs, and carried out only
too faithfully according to the programme. Whether there be good
grounds for this suspicion or not, we leave to the people to
judge for themselves, only asking that they will read the
following account of the sad occurrence carefully and
dispassionately before they render that judgment.
"The Senate was already in session, and Cæsar was coming down
the street towards the Capitol, conversing with some personal
friends, and followed, as usual, by a large number of citizens.
Just as he was passing in front of Demosthenes & Thucydides'
drug-store, he was observing casually to a gentleman, who, our
informant thinks, is a fortune-teller, that the Ides of March
were come. The reply was, 'Yes, they are come, but not gone yet.'
At this moment Artemidorus stepped up and passed the time of day,
and asked Cæsar to read a schedule or a tract or something of the
kind, which he had brought for his perusal. Mr. Decius Brutus
also said something about an 'humble suit' which _he_ wanted
read. Artemidorus begged that attention might be paid to his
first, because it was of personal consequence to Cæsar. The
latter replied that what concerned himself should be read last,
or words to that effect. Artemidorus begged and beseeched him to
read the paper instantly.[1] However, Cæsar shook him off, and
refused to read any petition in the street. He then entered the
Capitol, and the crowd followed him.
"About this time the following conversation was overheard, and we
consider that, taken in connection with the events which
succeeded it, it bears an appalling significance: Mr. Papilius
Lena remarked to George W. Cassius (commonly known as the 'Nobby
Boy of the Third Ward'), a bruiser in the pay of the Opposition,
that he hoped his enterprise to-day might thrive; and when
Cassius asked, 'What enterprise?' he only closed his left eye
temporarily and said with simulated indifference, 'Fare you
well,' and sauntered towards Cæsar. Marcus Brutus, who is
suspected of being the ringleader of the band that killed Cæsar,
asked what it was that Lena had said. Cassius told him, and
added, in a low tone, '_I fear our purpose is discovered._'
"Brutus told his wretched accomplice to keep an eye on Lena,
and a moment after Cassius urged that lean and hungry vagrant,
Casca, whose reputation here is none of the best, to be sudden
for _he feared prevention_. He then turned to Brutus, apparently
much excited, and asked what should be done, and swore that
either he or Cæsar _should never turn back_--he would kill
himself first. At this time Cæsar was talking to some of the
back-country members about the approaching fall elections, and
paying little attention to what was going on around him. Billy
Trebonius got into conversation with the people's friend and
Cæsar's--Mark Antony--and under some pretence or other got him
away, and Brutus, Decius, Casca, Cinna, Metellus Cimber, and
others of the gang of infamous desperadoes that infest Rome at
present, closed around the doomed Cæsar. Then Metellus Cimber
knelt down and begged that his brother might be recalled from
banishment, but Cæsar rebuked him for his fawning conduct, and
refused to grant his petition. Immediately, at Cimber's request,
first Brutus and then Cassius begged for the return of the
banished Publius; but Cæsar still refused. He said he could not
be moved; that he was as fixed as the North Star, and proceeded
to speak in the most complimentary terms of the firmness of that
star and its steady character. Then he said he was like it, and
he believed he was the only man in the country that was;
therefore, since he was 'constant' that Cimber should be
banished, he was also 'constant' that he should stay banished,
and he'd be hanged if he didn't keep him so!
"Instantly seizing upon this shallow pretext for a fight,
Casca sprang at Cæsar and struck him with a dirk. Cæsar grabbing
him by the arm with his right hand, and launching a blow straight
from the shoulder with his left that sent the reptile bleeding to
the earth. He then backed up against Pompey's statue, and squared
himself to receive his assailants. Cassius and Cimber and Cinna
rushed upon him with their daggers drawn, and the former
succeeded in inflicting a wound upon his body; but before he
could strike again, and before either of the others could strike
at all, Cæsar stretched the three miscreants at his feet with as
many blows of his powerful fist. By this time the Senate was in
an indescribable uproar; the throng of citizens in the lobbies
had blockaded the doors in their frantic efforts to escape from
the building, the sergeant-at-arms and his assistants were
struggling with the assassins, venerable senators had cast aside
their encumbering robes, and were leaping over benches and flying
down the aisles in wild confusion towards the shelter of the
committee-rooms, and a thousand voices were shouting 'Po-lice!
Po-lice!' in discordant tones that rose above the frightful din
like shrieking winds above the roaring of a tempest. And amid it
all, great Cæsar stood with his back against the statue, like a
lion at bay, and fought his assailants weaponless and hand to
hand, with the defiant bearing and the unwavering courage which
he had shown before on many a bloody field. Billy Trebonius and
Caius Legarius struck him with their daggers and fell, as their
brother-conspirators before them had fallen. But at last, when
Cæsar saw his old friend Brutus step forward armed with a
murderous knife, it is said he seemed utterly overpowered with
grief and amazement, and dropping his invincible left arm by his
side, he hid his face in the folds of his mantle and received the
treacherous blow without an effort to stay the hand that gave it.
He only said, '_Et tu, Brute?_' and fell lifeless on the marble
pavement.
"We learn that the coat deceased had on when he was killed was
the same one he wore in his tent on the afternoon of the day he
overcame the Nervii, and that when it was removed from the corpse
it was found to be cut and gashed in no less than seven different
places. There was nothing in the pockets. It will be exhibited at
the coroner's inquest, and will be damning proof of the fact of
the killing. These latter facts may be relied on, as we get them
from Mark Antony, whose position enables him to learn every item
of news connected with the one subject of absorbing interest of
to-day.
[Illustration: "THERE WAS NOTHING IN THE POCKETS"]
"LATER.--While the coroner was summoning a jury, Mark Antony and
other friends of the late Cæsar got hold of the body, and lugged
it off to the Forum, and at last accounts Antony and Brutus were
making speeches over it and raising such a row among the people
that, as we go to press, the chief of police is satisfied there
is going to be a riot, and is taking measures accordingly."
[Footnote 1: Mark that: It is hinted by William Shakespeare, who
saw the beginning and the end of the unfortunate affray, that this
"schedule" was simply a note discovering to Cæsar that a plot was
brewing to take his life.]