Cæsar’s consulship (693) is to be looked upon as the true beginning of
the civil wars; its date is four years after that of Cicero. He had not
been much talked of until then, although he enjoyed extraordinary favour
with the people; as yet Pompey and Crassus alone were powerful.—The two
biographies of Cæsar by Suetonius and Plutarch, are, strange to say,
both of them ἀκέφαλοι.[5] In the former, there is wanting besides the
real beginning, the dedication to the then _præfectus prætorio_, a fact
which we have known since the year 1812. With regard to the latter, as
far as I am aware, this has not been noticed before; but Plutarch could
not have altogether passed over his ancestors, the whole of his
genealogy, and the history of his boyhood and youth, so as to begin with
Sylla’s attempt to have him divorced from his second wife. For this
reason, we know hardly anything of his origin. The Julii were an Alban
clan, and therefore in the earliest times of Rome belonged to the
_gentes minores_: in the first ages of the republic they are often to be
met with in curule dignities; but from the fourth to the seventh
century, the _gens_ is no where to be found. Notwithstanding their being
patricians, they sided with the popular party. The sister of his father
having been married to Marius, Cæsar clung from a youth to Marius and
his memory; just as Plato did to the uncle of his mother. He was married
to Cornelia, the daughter of Cinna, a union which Sylla wanted to break;
but Cæsar, in an age when all men trembled, showed already the greatness
of his soul, disdaining, as he did, to stoop and to forsake the wife of
his love. Her dowry was taken from him, as the property of her father
had been confiscated; and he had to put up with it: he had also to hide
himself; and though he was not on the proscription lists, he was closely
hunted, with Sylla’s knowledge, by what were called the Cornelians, and
he had to buy his life. He was at that time still very young, having,
according to the custom of the high born families, been married very
early; yet there was something so extraordinary about him, that even the
wild myrmidons of Sylla, and his most eager partisans, could not bear
the thought of sacrificing such a fine young man. It was only, however,
with great reluctance, that Sylla consented to his being saved from
persecution. Cæsar now returned to Rome; but with all his boldness and
determination, he was exceedingly guarded: it would have been happy for
Cicero, if he had had Cæsar’s circumspection. As long as Sylla was
alive, Cæsar, like an industrious youth who was going through his
studies, had his attention wholly given to literature; and the greatest
general of his age showed no military inclinations whatever. Nor did he
serve any military apprenticeship: when he went out as quæstor to Spain,
he at once took the command of troops; just as if among us, one who had
never learned the drill, were to lead a brigade. So likewise did General
Moreau, in his very first campaign, act at once as a general of
division; Frederic II. also had never been in any school of war. After
his quæstorship, Julius Cæsar became ædile, when he greatly
distinguished himself by the pomp which he displayed, although he was by
no means wealthy. But in these matters, he was very careless: to those
who lent to him, he gave a pledge in his heart, to repay the debt
tenfold, when once he should have come into power.
The opposite party were already losing ground in public opinion. He now
boldly set himself up as the head of the remnant of Marius’ party: thus
he made over his aunt Julia, the widow of Marius, a brilliant funeral
oration, the first which was ever spoken for a woman. And as the
conquering faction had unseemingly destroyed all the monuments and
statues of Marius, Cæsar one night secretly caused the statue of Marius
to be raised again in the Capitol, together with a Minerva which crowned
it, and an inscription in which all his titles were recounted. This
awakened such affright, that old Catulus was foolish enough to try and
stir up the senate to take steps against him; but he did it in vain, as
Cæsar was already too high up in public estimation. He then got the
prætorship, and in 693, the consulate.
If we place Cæsar before our minds with all his qualities, we find in
his character a great deal of openness and friendliness. He was a very
kindhearted man, though not affectionate like Cicero; he wanted to have
many friends, and there he was quite different from Cicero, who was very
exclusive: he was indulgent, and formed friendships with many who were
diametrically opposite to himself, and whose acquaintance was even
hurtful to his good name. He was free of all envy and jealousy of
Pompey, though he could not endure the assumed superiority of people who
were infinitely below himself. Pompey could not bear that Cæsar should
stand side by side with him, nor Cæsar on the other hand, that Pompey
should set himself above him:
Nec quemquam jam ferre potest Cæsarve priorem,
Pompejusve parem.[6]
His genius was most versatile: he possessed an unexampled facility and
power in all that could be done by intellect; he had an excellent
memory, together with presence of mind, and the firmest reliance on
himself and his good fortune, being confident that he must succeed in
everything. Owing to this great facility, most of his acquirements were
not the fruits of the toilsome drudgery of the school, but of the
cultivation and exercise of his great talents: thus it was with his
eloquence and his style. In the very fact that he owed nothing to art,
and everything to himself, lay the chief secret of his wonderful power.
He had made himself master of many branches of knowledge; for while they
interested him, he devoted to them all his energy and attention. He was
particularly remarkable for his acuteness and keen observation; and it
is certainly no small honour for grammar that Cæsar was so fond of it:
his work on analogy would very likely be as much superior to all the
grammars of that time, as his history was to all other works of the same
kind which are founded on personal observation. The same originality is
also manifest in his strategical talents: his sound, strong intellect
clearly marks its aim, and then finds out for itself the means of
attaining it. He was no intriguer; of all those plots which were then so
general, he knew nothing: on the contrary, he was the frankest person in
the world, which was the very reason why he was often so little on his
guard. Not a few of the arbitrary acts of which he was guilty, were
merely the consequences of a former want of caution, of frankness and
openness. His kindliness of soul, his mildness and humanity, he showed
after his victory in a manner which could never have been expected from
him; nor was there anything artificial in it. Augustus was an actor in
all he did; but Cæsar was always true and open-hearted. Had he lived in
times when the machine of the state was smoothly going on, and was not
yet rusty and disorganised, when it was still possible to govern the
republic with a strong, sound hand,—as for instance, in the days of
Scipio; or, had he been born on the throne, he would calmly have gone
through his career, and without destroying anything, have most
brilliantly reached the goal. But he was thrown upon a time, when as
Göthe says, “one must needs be either anvil or hammer;” and of course
the choice was not difficult. Cato might dream as long as he liked, that
there was still hope with the _fæx plebis_, and that the age of Curius
and Fabricius were not yet over; Cicero might trim and tack about in
this republic, if he chose; but Cæsar could not do otherwise than rule
the circumstances in which he found himself, and he had unremittingly,
untiringly to advance towards the mark which he had in view. That he was
unscrupulous in his wars, cannot be denied: his Gallic wars are for the
most part downright crimes; his conduct towards the Usipetes and
Tenchteri was shocking, and towards Vercingetorix deplorable, it was
dictated by an unhallowed ambition; yet he never did anything of the
kind against his fellow-citizens. His behaviour to the Gauls may indeed
be accounted for by what we know of the manners of the times. The ruling
party at Rome behaved towards Cæsar, not only foolishly, but with utter
injustice: they ought never to have hindered his offering himself from
Gaul as a candidate for the consular dignity. If they had allowed him
quietly to get it, matters would not only have gone on better than in
Pompey’s second and third consulships, but all would very likely have
passed off peaceably, and even perhaps beneficially for the republic.
Had it in any way been possible to find a remedy for the disorders of
the state, Cæsar was the only man to devise it, and to carry it out.
In his behaviour to Cicero, who during his consulship had offended him,
he shows himself to be a very different person from Pompey, though
Pompey’s vanity only had been wounded, whereas Cicero had everywhere
leagued himself with the enemies of Cæsar. Yet the latter did not bear
him the least grudge; but would gladly have taken him with him to Gaul,
and there protected him.
As to Cæesar’s style, everybody knows that there is no greater master
among prose writers in the γένος ἀφελές. The highest acknowledgment is
what Cicero says of his eloquence: it is _sermoni proprior_, the most
finished conversation of a highly educated man. Posterity has indeed
been more just to Cæsar’s genius, than his contemporaries have been;
Tacitus, however, discerned it.[7]
Cæsar was as a man possessed by fate, who rushed on with a headlong
impulse of passions, though always benevolent and amiable: he thus got
entangled in most unfortunate embarrassments. To this feature in his
character belongs his extravagant prodigality; not for his own
pleasures, but for the people, which made him dependent upon the rich,
especially upon Crassus, who advanced him immense sums. If during
Cæsar’s consulship, there had been a party which had wished honestly to
attach itself to him, and to rid itself of Pompey’s influence, his year
of office would have passed without a stain. It was in fact rather a
loss of time for him; as his real object was the province, which,
according to the custom of those times, he could only obtain at the end
of the year. Vatinius, who was then _tribunus plebis_, with a violation
of the laws which was become common in those days, caused Cisalpine Gaul
and Illyricum to be given for five years as a province to Cæsar; and to
this was afterwards added Transalpine Gaul, which at that time was not
yet a province. Pompey until now had had his province only for an
indefinite period.
Cæsar enacted several popular laws. He founded a colony in Capua which,
since its conquest in the Second Punic War, had always been in a strange
position: the buildings there, and the ground, were the property of the
Roman republic; the houses might be held on lease, and the land was
cultivated by hereditary tenants who had to pay the tenth of the
produce. The state, however, might resume these grants at pleasure, and
attempts had twice before been made to change the system: the former of
these was in Cinna’s consulship, on the motion of M. Brutus; and the
latter in that of Cicero, when Servilius Rullus brought it forward.
Against this colony, Cicero had already spoken on that occasion; and
when Cæsar now returned to the plan, he refused being one of the
commissioners for founding it: Cæsar resented this as a very bitter
personal affront, and the two were for some time estranged. Yet for all
that, they would have been friends again, had Cicero chosen to go with
Cæsar to Gaul. Cicero’s brother Quintus was with him there, and was
treated by him with the greatest distinction. Cæsar afterwards tried in
every possible way to show his good feeling towards Cicero; but the
latter was induced by his evil star to remain at Rome.
Cicero had a great deal of trouble with Cæsar’s colleague, a
narrow-minded and obstinate, but honest man. The next consuls, L.
Calpurnius Piso and A. Gabinius, were ἄνθρωποι ἀλιτήριοι: all the evil
that Cicero says of them is quite true. They bought of Clodius, by
letting him carry without hindrance his detestable rogations which were
to revenge himself on Cicero, the provinces of Syria and Macedonia: the
former of these was for Gabinius, who wanted to restore Ptolemy Auletes;
the latter for Piso. Clodius now impeached Cicero for having put Roman
citizens to death without trial; and yet, as we have already remarked,
it was a case of _delictum manifestum_, in which, by the _lex Porcia_,
no further judicial proceedings were requisite. There were three _leges
Porciæ_, the last of which had probably been brought in by L. Porcius
during the Social War. In former times, any one could evade the popular
tribunals by going into a _municipium_; but after the citizenship had
been granted to the Italians, the state of things was necessarily
altered. The question must now have been, whether men who were full
Roman citizens were at all liable to capital punishment for any crime;
and public opinion indeed seems to have answered it in the negative. By
the _lex Porcia_ therefore, either a Roman citizen could not be put to
death at all; or if it must be, it was to be done on the spot. According
to this, Cicero could only be proceeded against _quod civem Romanum
necasset_, but not _quod indemnatum Romanum civem necasset_.
All kept aloof: Pompey went into the country, and would not see Cicero
or his friends; Cæsar was in Gaul; Crassus had a bitter spite against
Cicero for having been mentioned in Catiline’s conspiracy,—as was
generally believed, with justice, but yet without Cicero’s having
anything to do with it, as this was said by one of the witnesses. With
the son of Crassus, however, P. Crassus, who was a very distinguished
man, Cicero was very intimate; and he loved him notwithstanding all his
father’s enmity. Cicero could not abide the day of his trial, or he
would have been lost: the _concilia_ were now in truth little better
than the rakings together of the dregs of the Roman market and streets,
and such meetings allowed themselves to be guided by a leader in any way
he liked. Cicero had therefore to leave the city to save his life. The
senate, bad as that body was, mutually encouraged each other, showing
great sympathy for Cicero. Clodius, however, followed up his victory, as
he saw that the government was quite cowed. He pulled down Cicero’s
houses; he destroyed his villa; he put up his property for sale, though
not a soul would buy it; and on the ground where his house had stood, he
built a small temple to Freedom. The place on the Palatine where it
stood, I made out within about fifty paces, and I was there often: in
the reign of the emperor Claudius, the house was rebuilt; but it was
burnt down again in Nero’s fire. Not only was Cicero himself outlawed,
but likewise all those who should give him shelter or abet him. Thus he
was not able to go at all to Sicily, the prætor there, with whom in
former times he had been on friendly terms, having allowed himself to be
intimidated: he therefore went to Macedon, where he lived with the
quæstor Plancius, who behaved to him like a brother. Clodius now kept
his word to the consuls. Gabinius and Piso got the provinces which he
had promised them, whilst he himself with the greatest shamelessness
laid hands on whatever he listed. This went on as long as his year of
office lasted. In the following year, public opinion declared so loudly
for Cicero, petitions pouring in from all sides, that he was regularly
recalled, and received with a triumphant welcome which consoled him for
the moment;—nay, he deemed himself happier than ever. Yet for all that,
his misfortune had made a deep impression upon him: the speeches which
he made just before the year of that calamity, especially that for
Flaccus his assistant in the affair of Catiline, are clouded with
anxiety, and with bitter grief at the reward which he received from his
country, a sorrow which even endangered his life; and this imparts to
them a peculiar interest. The very next year, that happiness was already
at an end. The internal condition of Rome became worse and worse. Pompey
fell out with Clodius, and showed himself friendly to Cicero. Pompey and
Crassus now wanted to be consuls, against the wishes of all _viri boni_;
and they carried their point, as Saturninus and Glaucia once did. To
intimidate Domitius, Cato’s brother-in-law, who likewise stood for the
consulship, they had him waylaid early in the morning, as he was going
home, and his servant, who went before him with a torch, stabbed before
his eyes; thus showing him what he was threatened with, and warning him
to withdraw from his competition: he was forced to give way.
Now that these two pillars of the aristocracy had thus become consuls,
they managed, by means of a _Lex Trebonia_, to have provinces granted
them. From this time, the _gentes_ of the Italians are met with more and
more in the Fasti. Trebonius is a Lucanian name: to the same class
belong men like Asinius Pollio, Munatius Plancus, and others, who
likewise came from Italian towns. The Trebonian law gave Spain with the
legions quartered there, to Pompey for five years; and to Crassus, the
war against the Parthians. This time, sin was its own punishment: for
Crassus found his death in that war, and Pompey also was brought by this
illegal measure to his fall. To gain the consent of Cæsar, the
possession of his own province was prolonged to him likewise for five
years. It is a melancholy fact, that Cicero felt obliged from his
experience to speak in favour of this assignment, thus making a painful
sacrifice to necessity.
The anarchy and confusion daily increased. In the year 701, the
elections were stopped, and what had never been done before, Pompey was
elected sole consul. While in this capacity, he brought in several laws,
especially concerning the _res judiciaria_, the details of which,
however, cannot be made out: thus much is known, that the number of the
knights from which the jury was taken was considerably increased, and
the pleadings extended. There was also a law passed against _ambitus_,
which indeed is a ridiculous one; but it was only intended to check
those cases which were too gross.
It was shortly before this consulship of Pompey, that Annius Milo, who
was of an old Roman Syllanian[8] family, and the deadly enemy of Clodius
met the latter on the road from Rome to what is now Albano. Each of
them, as was then the custom of men of rank, was accompanied by a great
retinue; and in the scuffle which then arose, Clodius was mortally
wounded. On this, a dreadful tumult broke out, and Milo was arraigned as
a murderer. Pompey was against Milo, whose consulship he wished to
prevent; he therefore sided with the party of Clodius, and took such
measures, that Cicero, when pleading for Milo, for the first and only
time, lost his presence of mind. Milo had to go as an exile to
Marseilles: he returned from thence during Cæsar’s war, and perished,
having engaged in an insurrection against the latter.
Thus far goes on the history to the tenth year of Cæsar’s proconsulship:
he now stood for the consulship, and was thwarted in this by all sorts
of sophisms and cabals. During the last years, Cicero had been forced
against his will to accept the proconsulship of Cilicia. It was a very
dangerous position: on the one hand, he was afraid of the country being
overrun by the Parthians, who since the death of Crassus had been let
loose; and on the other, he could not bear to live in an out-of-the-way
corner, where even the rudiments of Greek learning were hardly to be met
with, and the gentry themselves had only a short time before been
captains of pirates. The overthrow of Crassus happened in the fifth year
of Cæsar’s proconsulship.
The peace between Pompey and Cæsar, which lasted during the absence of
the latter, was made in a congress at Lucca between Cæsar, Pompey, and
Crassus, all three of whom came thither with a strong body of followers,
and settled about the fate of the commonwealth. If may be imagined what
must have been the condition of a state in which such things could have
happened. Pompey then married Cæsar’s daughter Julia, who, however, died
not long afterwards in child-bed: her infant daughter soon followed her.
This broke again the connexion: had it lasted, Cæsar would certainly not
have undertaken any war. He was a man of so much heart, that he would no
doubt have rather borne with anything, if by the war his daughter and
grand-daughter were at all likely to be injured.