Caesar, when the report of the Senate's action reached him, addressed
his soldiers. He had but one legion with him, the 13th. But one legion
would represent the rest. He told them what the Senate had done, and
why they had done it. "For nine years he and his army had served their
country loyally and with some success. They had driven the Germans over
the Rhine; they had made Gaul a Roman province; and the Senate for
answer had broken the constitution, and had set aside the tribunes
because they spoke in his defence. They had voted the State in danger,
and had called Italy to arms when no single act had been done by
himself to justify them." The soldiers whom--Pompey supposed
disaffected declared with enthusiasm that they would support their
commander and the tribunes. They offered to serve without pay. Officers
and men volunteered contributions for the expenses of the war. In all
the army one officer alone proved false. Labienus kept his word to
Pompey and stole away to Capua. He left his effects behind, and Caesar
sent them after him untouched.
Finding that all the rest could be depended on, he sent back over the
Alps for two more legions to follow him. He crossed the little river
Rubicon, which bounded his province, and advanced to Rimini, where he
met the tribunes, Antony, Cassius Longinus, and Curio, who were coming
to him from Rome.[1] At Rimini the troops were again assembled. Curio
told them what had passed. Caesar added a few more words. The
legionaries, officers and privates, were perfectly satisfied; and
Caesar, who, a resolution once taken, struck as swiftly as his own
eagles, was preparing to go forward. He had but 5,000 men with him, but
he understood the state of Italy, and knew that he had nothing to fear.
At this moment Lucius Caesar, a distant kinsman, and the praetor
Roscius arrived, as they said, with a private message from Pompey. The
message was nothing. The object was no more than to gain time. But
Caesar had no wish for war, and would not throw away a chance of
avoiding it. He bade his kinsman tell Pompey that it was for him to
compose the difficulties which had arisen without a collision. He had
been himself misrepresented to his countrymen. He had been recalled
from his command before his time; the promise given to him about his
consulship had been broken. He had endured these injuries. He had
proposed to the Senate that the forces on both sides should be
disbanded. The Senate had refused. A levy had been ordered through
Italy, and the legions designed for Parthia had been retained. Such an
attitude could have but one meaning. Yet he was still ready to make
peace. Let Pompey depart to Spain. His own troops should then be
dismissed. The elections could be held freely, and Senate and people
would be restored to their joint authority. If this was not enough,
they two might meet and relieve each other's alarms and suspicions in a
personal interview.
With this answer the envoys went, and Caesar paused at Rimini.
Meanwhile the report reached Rome that Caesar had crossed the Rubicon.
The aristocracy had nursed the pleasant belief that his heart would
fail him, or that his army would desert him. His heart had not failed,
his army had not deserted; and, in their terror, they saw him already
in their midst like an avenging Marius. He was coming. His horse had
been seen on the Apennines. Flight, instant flight, was the only
safety. Up they rose, consuls, praetors, senators, leaving wives and
children and property to their fate, not halting even to take the money
out of the treasury, but contenting themselves with leaving it locked.
On foot, on horseback, in litters, in carriages, they fled for their
lives to find safety under Pompey's wing in Capua. In this forlorn
company went Cicero, filled with contempt for what was round him.
"You ask what Pompey means to do," he wrote to Atticus. "I do not think
he knows himself. Certainly none of us know.--It is all panic and
blunder. We are uncertain whether he will make a stand, or leave Italy.
If he stays, I fear his army is too unreliable. If not, where will he
go, and how and what are his plans? Like you, I am afraid that Caesar
will be a Phalaris, and that we may expect the very worst. The flight
of the Senate, the departure of the magistrates, the closing of the
treasury, will not stop him.--I am broken-hearted; so ill-advisedly, so
against all my counsels, the whole business has been conducted. Shall I
turn my coat, and join the victors? I am ashamed. Duty forbids me; but
I am miserable at the thought of my children." [2]
A gleam of hope came with the arrival of Labienus, but it soon clouded.
"Labienus is a hero," Cicero said. "Never was act more splendid. If
nothing else comes of it, he has at least made Caesar smart.--We have a
civil war on us, not because we have quarrelled among ourselves, but
through one abandoned citizen. But this citizen has a strong army, and
a large party attached to him.--What he will do I cannot say; he cannot
even pretend to do anything constitutionally; but what is to become of
us, with a general that cannot lead?--To say nothing of ten years of
blundering, what could have been worse than this flight from Rome? His
next purpose I know not. I ask, and can have no answer. All is
cowardice and confusion. He was kept at home to protect us, and
protection there is none. The one hope is in two legions invidiously
detained and almost not belonging to us. As to the levies, the men
enlist unwillingly, and hate the notion of a war." [3]
In this condition of things Lucius Caesar arrived with the answer from
Rimini. A council of war was held at Teano to consider it; and the
flames which had burnt so hotly at the beginning of the month were
found to have somewhat cooled. Cato's friend Favonius was still
defiant; but the rest, even Cato himself, had grown more modest.
Pompey, it was plain, had no army, and could not raise an army. Caesar
spoke fairly. It might be only treachery; but the Senate had left their
families and their property in Rome. The public money was in Rome. They
were willing to consent that Caesar should be consul, since so it must
be. Unluckily for themselves, they left Pompey to draw up their reply.
Pompey intrusted the duty to an incapable person named Sestius, and the
answer was ill-written, awkward, and wanting on the only point which
would have proved his sincerity. Pompey declined the proposed
interview. Caesar must evacuate Rimini, and return to his province;
afterwards, at some time unnamed, Pompey would go to Spain, and other
matters should be arranged to Caesar's satisfaction. Caesar must give
securities that he would abide by his promise to dismiss his troops;
and meanwhile the consular levies would be continued.[4]
To Cicero these terms seemed to mean a capitulation clumsily disguised.
Caesar interpreted them differently. To him it appeared that he was
required to part with his own army, while Pompey was forming another.
No time was fixed for the departure to Spain. He might be himself named
consul, yet Pompey might be in Italy to the end of the year with an
army independent of him. Evidently there was distrust on both sides,
yet on Caesar's part a distrust not undeserved. Pompey would not see
him. He had admitted to Cicero that he desired a war to prevent Caesar
from being consul, and at this very moment was full of hopes and
schemes for carrying it on successfully. "Pompey writes," reported
Cicero on the 28th of January, "that in a few days he will have a force
on which he can rely. He will occupy Picenum,[5] and we are then to
return to Rome. Labienus assures him that Caesar is utterly weak. Thus
he is in better spirits." [6]
[Sidenote: February, B.C. 49.] A second legion had by this time arrived
at Rimini. Caesar considered that if the Senate really desired peace,
their disposition would be quickened by further pressure. He sent
Antony across the mountains to Arezzo, on the straight road to Rome;
and he pushed on himself toward Ancona, before Pompey had time to throw
himself in the way. The towns on the way opened their gates to him. The
municipal magistrates told the commandants that they could not refuse
to entertain Caius Caesar, who had done such great things for the
Republic. The officers fled. The garrisons joined Caesar's legions.
Even a colony planted by Labienus sent a deputation with offers of
service. Steadily and swiftly in gathering volume the army of the north
came on. At Capua all was consternation. "The consuls are helpless,"
Cicero said. "There has been no levy. The commissioners do not even try
to excuse their failure. With Caesar pressing forward and our general
doing nothing, men will not give in their names. The will is not
wanting, but they are without hope. Pompey, miserable and incredible
though it be, is prostrate. He has no courage, no purpose, no force, no
energy.... Caius Cassius came on the 7th to Capua, with an order from
Pompey to the consuls to go to Rome and bring away the money from the
treasury. How are they to go without an escort, or how return? The
consuls say he must go himself first to Picenum. But Picenum is
lost.--Caesar will soon be in Apulia, and Pompey on board ship. What
shall I do? I should not doubt had there not been such shameful
mis-management, and had I been myself consulted. Caesar invites me to
peace, but his letter was written before his advance." [7]
Desperate at the lethargy of their commander, the aristocracy tried to
force him into movement by acting on their own account. Domitius, who
had been appointed Caesar's successor, was most interested in his
defeat. He gathered a party of young lords and knights and a few
thousand men, and flung himself into Corfinium, a strong position in
the Apennines, directly in Caesar's path. Pompey had still his two
legions, and Domitius sent an express to tell him that Caesar's force
was still small, and that with a slight effort he might enclose him in
the mountains. Meanwhile Domitius himself tried to break the bridge
over the Pescara. He was too late. Caesar had by this time nearly
30,000 men. The Cisalpine territories in mere enthusiasm had raised
twenty-two cohorts for him. He reached the Pescara while the bridge was
still standing. He surrounded Corfinium with the impregnable lines
which had served him so well in Gaul, and the messenger sent to Capua
came back with cold comfort. Pompey had simply ordered Domitius to
retreat from a position which he ought not to have occupied, and to
join him in Apulia. It was easy to say Retreat! No retreat was
possible. Domitius and his companions proposed to steal away in the
night. They were discovered. Their own troops arrested them, and
carried them as prisoners to Caesar. Fortune had placed in his hands at
the outset of the campaign the man who beyond others had been the
occasion of it. Domitius would have killed Caesar like a bandit if he
had caught him. He probably expected a similar fate for himself. Caesar
received his captives calmly and coldly. He told them that they had
made an ungrateful return to him for his services to his country; and
then dismissed them all, restoring even Domitius's well-filled military
chest, and too proud to require a promise from him that he would
abstain personally from further hostility. His army, such as it was,
followed the general example, and declared for Caesar.
The capture of Corfinium and the desertion of the garrison made an end
of hesitation. Pompey and the consuls thought only of instant flight,
and hurried to Brindisi, where ships were waiting for them; and Caesar,
hoping that the evident feeling of Italy would have its effect with the
reasonable part of the Senate, sent Cornelius Balbus, who was on
intimate terms with many of them, to assure them of his eagerness for
peace, and to tell Cicero especially that he would be well contented to
live under Pompey's rule if he could have a guarantee for his personal
safety.[8]
[Sidenote: March B.C. 49.] Cicero's trials had been great, and were not
diminishing. The account given by Balbus was simply incredible to him.
If Caesar was really as well disposed as Balbus represented, then the
senatorial party, himself included, had acted like a set of madmen. It
might be assumed, therefore, that Caesar was as meanly ambitious, as
selfish, as revolutionary as their fears had represented him, and that
his mildness was merely affectation. But what then? Cicero wished for
himself to be on the right side, but also to be on the safe side.
Pompey's was the right side, the side, that is, which, for his own
sake, he would prefer to see victorious. But was Pompey's the safe
side? or rather, would it be safe to go against him? The necessity for
decision was drawing closer. If Pompey and the consuls went abroad, all
loyal senators would be expected to follow them, and to stay behind
would be held treason. Italy was with Caesar; but the East, with its
treasures, its fleets, its millions of men, this was Pompey's, heart
and soul. The sea was Pompey's. Caesar might win for the moment, but
Pompey might win in the long run. The situation was most perplexing.
Before the fall of Corfinium, Cicero had poured himself out upon it to
his friend. "My connections, personal and political," he said, "attach
me to Pompey. If I stay behind, I desert my noble and admirable
companions, and I fall into the power of a man whom I know not how far
I can trust. He shows in many ways that he wishes me well. I saw the
tempest impending, and I long ago took care to secure his good-will.
But suppose him to be my friend indeed, is it becoming in a good and
valiant citizen, who has held the highest offices and done such
distinguished things, to be in the power of any man? Ought I to expose
myself to the danger, and perhaps disgrace, which would lie before me,
should Pompey recover his position? This on one side; but now look at
the other. Pompey has shown neither conduct nor courage, and he has
acted throughout against my advice and judgment. I pass over his old
errors: how he himself armed this man against the constitution; how he
supported his laws by violence in the face of the auspices; how he gave
him Further Gaul, married his daughter, supported Clodius, helped me
back from exile indeed, but neglected me afterward; how he prolonged
Caesar's command, and backed him up in everything; how in his third
consulship, when he had begun to defend the constitution, he yet moved
the tribunes to curry a resolution for taking Caesar's name in his
absence, and himself sanctioned it by a law of his own; how he resisted
Marcus Marcellus, who would have ended Caesar's government on the 1st
of March. Let us forget all this: but what was ever more disgraceful
than the flight from Rome? What conditions would not have been
preferable? He will restore the constitution, you say, but when? by
what means? Is not Picenum lost? Is not the road open to the city? Is
not our money, public and private, all the enemy's? There is no cause,
no rallying point for the friends of the constitution.... The rabble
are all for Caesar, and many wish for revolution.... I saw from the
first that Pompey only thought of flight: if I now follow him, whither
are we to go? Caesar will seize my brother's property and mine, ours
perhaps sooner than others', as an assault on us would be popular. If I
stay, I shall do no more than many good men did in Cinna's
time.--Caesar may be my friend, not certainly, but perhaps; and he may
offer me a triumph which it would be dangerous to refuse, and invidious
with the "good" to accept. Oh, most perplexing position!--while I
write, word comes that Caesar is at Corfinium. Domitius is inside, with
a strong force and eager to fight. I cannot think Pompey will desert
him." [9]
[Sidenote: February, B.C. 49.] Pompey did desert Domitius, as has been
seen. The surrender of Corfinium, and the circumstances of it, gave
Cicero the excuse which he evidently desired to find for keeping clear
of a vessel that appeared to him to be going straight to shipwreck. He
pleased himself with inventing evil purposes for Pompey, to justify his
leaving him. He thought it possible that Domitius and his friends might
have been purposely left to fall into Caesar's hands, in the hope that
Caesar would kill them and make himself unpopular. Pompey, he was
satisfied, meant as much to be a despot as Caesar. Pompey might have
defended Rome, if he had pleased; but his purpose was to go away and
raise a great fleet and a great Asiatic army, and come back and ruin
Italy, and be a new "Sylla." [10] In his distress Cicero wrote both to
Caesar and to Pompey, who was now at Brindisi. To Caesar he said that,
if he wished for peace, he might command his services. He had always
considered that Caesar had been wronged in the course which had been
pursued toward him. Envy and ill-nature had tried to rob him of the
honors which had been conferred on him by the Roman people. He
protested that he had himself supported Caesar's claims, and had
advised others to do the same. But he felt for Pompey also, he said,
and would gladly be of service to him.[11]
To Pompey he wrote:
[Sidenote: March, B.C. 49.] "My advice was always for peace, even on
hard terms. I wished you to remain in Rome. You never hinted that you
thought of leaving Italy. I accepted your opinion, not for the
constitution's sake, for I despaired of saving it. The constitution is
gone, and cannot be restored without a destructive war; but I wished to
be with you, and if I can join you now, I will. I know well that my
conduct has not pleased those who desired to fight. I urged peace; not
because I did not fear what they feared, but because I thought peace a
less evil than war. When the war had begun and overtures were made to
you, you responded so amply and so honorably that I hoped I had
prevailed.... I was never more friendly with Caesar than they were; nor
were they more true to the State than I. The difference between us is
this, that while they and I are alike good citizens, I preferred an
arrangement, and you, I thought, agreed with me. They chose to fight,
and as their counsels have been taken, I can but do my duty as a member
of the Commonwealth, and as a friend to you." [12]
* * * * *
In this last sentence Cicero gives his clear opinion that the
aristocracy had determined upon war, and that for this reason and no
other the attempted negotiations had failed. Caesar, hoping that a
better feeling might arise after his dismissal of Domitius, had waited
a few days at Corfinium. Finding that Pompey had gone to Brindisi, he
then followed, trusting to overtake him before he could leave Italy,
and again by messengers pressed him earnestly for an interview. By
desertions, and by the accession of volunteers, Caesar had now six
legions with him. If Pompey escaped, he knew that the war would be long
and dangerous. If he could capture him, or persuade him to an
agreement, peace could easily be preserved. When he arrived outside the
town, the consuls with half the army had already gone. Pompey was still
in Brindisi, with 12,000 men, waiting till the transports could return
to carry him after them. Pompey again refused to see Caesar, and, in
the absence of the consuls, declined further discussion. Caesar tried
to blockade him, but for want of ships was unable to close the harbor.
The transports came back, and Pompey sailed for Durazzo.[13]
A few extracts and abridgments of letters will complete the picture of
this most interesting time.
_Cicero to Atticus_.[14]
"Observe the man into whose hands we have fallen. How keen he is, how
alert, how well prepared! By Jove, if he does not kill any one, and
spares the property of those who are so terrified, he will be in high
favor. I talk with the tradesmen and farmers. They care for nothing but
their lands, and houses, and money. They have gone right round. They
fear the man they trusted, and love the man they feared; and all this
through our own blunders. I am sick to think of it."
_Balbus to Cicero_.[15]
"Pompey and Caesar have been divided by perfidious villains. I beseech
you, Cicero, use your influence to bring them together again. Believe
me, Caesar will not only do all you wish, but will hold you to have
done him essential service. Would that I could say as much of Pompey,
who I rather wish than hope may be brought to terms! You have pleased
Caesar by begging Lentulus to stay in Italy, and you have more than
pleased me. If he will listen to you, will trust to what I tell him of
Caesar, and will go back to Rome, between you and him and the Senate,
Caesar and Pompey may be reconciled. If I can see this, I shall have
lived long enough. I know you will approve of Caesar's conduct at
Corfinium."
_Cicero to Atticus_.[16]
"My preparations are complete. I wait till I can go by the upper sea; I
cannot go by the lower at this season. I must start soon, lest I be
detained. I do not go for Pompey's sake. I have long known him to be
the worst of politicians, and I know him now for the worst of generals.
I go because I am sneered at by the optimates. Precious optimates! What
are they about now? Selling themselves to Caesar? The towns receive
Caesar as a god. When this Pisistratus does them no harm, they are as
grateful to him as if he had protected them from others. What
receptions will they not give him? What honors will they not heap upon
him? They are afraid, are they? By Hercules, it is Pompey that they are
afraid of. Caesar's treacherous clemency enchants them. Who are these
optimates, that insist that I must leave Italy, while they remain? Let
them be who they may, I am ashamed to stay, though I know what to
expect. I shall join a man who means not to conquer Italy, but to lay
it waste."
_Cicero to Atticus_.[17]
"Ought a man to remain in his country after it has fallen under a
tyranny? Ought a man to use any means to overthrow a tyranny, though he
may ruin his country in doing it? Ought he not rather to try to mend
matters by argument as opportunity offers? Is it right to make war on
one's country for the sake of liberty? Should a man adhere at all risks
to one party, though he considers them on the whole to have been a set
of fools? Is a person who has been his country's greatest benefactor,
and has been rewarded by envy and ill usage, to volunteer into danger
for such a party? May he not retire, and live quietly with his family,
and leave public affairs to their fate?
"I amused myself as times passes with these speculations."
_Cicero to Atticus_.[18]
"Pompey has sailed. I am pleased to find that you approve of my
remaining. My efforts now are to persuade Caesar to allow me to be
absent from the Senate, which is soon to meet. I fear he will refuse. I
have been deceived in two points. I expected an arrangement; and now I
perceive that Pompey has resolved upon a cruel and deadly war. By
Heaven, he would have shown himself a better citizen, and a better man,
had he borne anything sooner than have taken in hand such a purpose."
_Cicero to Atticus_.[19]
"Pompey is aiming at a monarchy after the type of Sylla. I know what I
say. Never did he show his hand more plainly. Has he not a good cause?
The very best. But mark me, it will be carried out most foully. He
means to strangle Rome and Italy with famine, and then waste and burn
the country, and seize the property of all who have any. Caesar may do
as ill; but the prospect is frightful. The fleets from Alexandria,
Colchis, Sidon, Cyprus, Pamphylia, Lycia, Rhodes, Chios, Byzantium,
will be employed to cut off our supplies, and then Pompey himself will
come in his wrath."
_Cicero to Atticus_.[20]
"I think I have been mad from the beginning of this business. Why did
not I follow Pompey when things were at their worst? I found him (at
Capua) full of fears. I knew then what he would do, and I did not like
it. He made blunder on blunder. He never wrote to me, and only thought
of flight. It was disgraceful. But now my love for him revives. Books
and philosophy please me no more. Like the sad bird, I gaze night and
day over the sea, and long to fly away.[21] Were flight the worst, it
would be nothing, but I dread this terrible war, the like of which has
never been seen. The word will be, 'Sylla could do thus and thus; and
why should not I?' Sylla, Marius, Cinna, had each a constitutional
cause, yet how cruel was their victory! I shrank from war because I saw
that something still more cruel was now intended. I, whom some have
called the saviour and parent of my country! I to bring Getes, and
Armenians, and Colchians upon Italy! I to famish my fellow-citizens and
waste their lands! Caesar, I reflected, was in the first place but
mortal; and then there were many ways in which he might be got rid
of.[22] But, as you say, the sun has fallen out of the sky. The sick
man thinks that while there is life there is hope. I continued to hope
as long as Pompey was in Italy. Now your letters are my only
consolation."
* * * * *
"Caesar was but mortal!" The rapture with which Cicero hailed Caesar's
eventual murder explains too clearly the direction in which his
thoughts were already running. If the life of Caesar alone stood
between his country and the resurrection of the constitution, Cicero
might well think, as others have done, that it was better that one man
should die rather than the whole nation perish. We read the words with
sorrow, and yet with pity. That Cicero, after his past flatteries of
Caesar, after the praises which he was yet to heap on him, should yet
have looked on his assassination as a thing to be desired, throws a
saddening light upon his inner nature. But the age was sick with a
moral plague, and neither strong nor weak, wise nor unwise, bore any
antidote against infection.
[1] The vision on the Rubicon, with the celebrated saying that "the die is
cast," is unauthenticated, and not at all consistent with Caesar's
character.
[2] _Ibid_., vii. 12.
[3] "Delectus ... invitorum est et pugnando ab horrentium."--_To
Atticus_, vii. 13.
[4] Compare Caesar's account of these conditions, _De Bello Civili_,
i. 10, with _Cicero to Atticus_, vii. 17.
[5] Between the Apennines and the Adriatic, about Ancona; in the line of
Caesar's march should he advance from Kimini.
[6] _To Atticus_, vii. 16.
[7] _Ibid_., vii. 21.
[8] "Balbus quidem major ad me scribit, nihil malle Caesarem, quam
principe Pompeio sine metu vivere. Tu puto haec credis."--_To
Atticus_, viii. 9.
[9] _To Atticus_, viii. 3.
[10] _To Atticus_, viii. 11.
[11] "Judicavique te bello violari, contra cujus honorem, populi Romani
beneficio concessum, inimici atque invidi niterentur. Sed ut eo
tempore non modo ipse fautor dignitatis tuae fui, verum etiam
caeteris auctor ad te adjuvandum, sic me nunc Pompeii dignitas
vehementer movet," etc.--_Cicero to Caesar, enclosed in a letter to
Atticus_, ix. 11.
[12] Enclosed to Atticus, viii. 11.
[13] Pompey had for _two years_ meditated on the course which he was
now taking. Atticus had spoken of the intended flight from Italy as
base. Cicero answers: "Hoc turpe Cnaeus noster biennio ante cogitavit:
ita Sullaturit animus ejus, et diu proscripturit;" "so he apes Sylla
and longs for a proscription."--_To Atticus_, ix. 10.
[14] _To Atticus_, viii. 13.
[15] Enclosed to Atticus, viii. 15.
[16] _To Atticus_, viii. 16.
[17] _To Atticus_, ix. 4.
[18] _Ibid_., ix. 6.
[19] _To Atticus_, ix. 7 and 9.
[20] _Ibid_.
[21] "Ita dies et noctes tanquam avis illa mare prospecto, evolare
cupio."
[22] "Hunc primum mortalem esse, deinde etiam multis modis extingui
posse cogitabam."--_To Atticus_, ix. 10.