By E. SPENCER BEESLY, M.A.
(100-44 B.C.)
[Illustration: Julius Caesar.]
Rome solved the great political problem of the ancient world in the
best practicable, if not in the best conceivable, way. To Caesar it
fell to put the crowning stroke to that work. The several states of
modern Europe have all contributed, though in different degrees, to
political progress, and therefore no one of them has the unique
importance and glory that belongs to Rome. For the same reason, no
modern statesman stands on a level with Caesar. He remains, in
Shakespeare's phrase, "the foremost man of all this world." It was the
high fortune of Rome that, in the principal crisis of her history, she
possessed a citizen so splendidly endowed in intellect, character, and
heart. Free to an extraordinary degree from the prejudices belonging
to his age and country, with piercing and far-sweeping vision, he saw
as from some superior height, the political situation of his own time
in its relation to the past and the future of the ancient world. If
Rome had till then carried out the work of conquest with considerable
method, and upon the whole, with steadiness, she had very inadequately
satisfied the need for incorporation. Her oligarchical constitution,
admirably adapted for the first task, could not easily reconcile
itself to the second. In its best days, and while Carthage and Macedon
were still formidable, the Senate had from time to time, prudently
though grudgingly, extended the privilege of citizenship to some of
the subject Italian states. But the great mass of Italians had only
extorted it by rebellion during the boyhood of Caesar, and outside
Italy, the conquered nations were still on the footing of subject
allies, trampled upon and fleeced for the benefit of Rome, or rather
of the Roman nobles and capitalists. If the great dominion was to be
maintained in some tolerable degree of well-being for all its members,
or even maintained at all, it was absolutely necessary that the
so-called Republican constitution, always oppressive for the
provinces, and now shamefully corrupt, should be replaced by personal
government. For a complete incorporation of the subject peoples was
not to be expected from the suffrages of a dominant people, to even
the poorest of whom, it would mean the cessation of highly prized
privileges and immunities. The provinces would from the earliest
moment of their subjection have welcomed such a change. The time was
more than ripe for it when the Roman world lay at the feet of Sulla.
Sulla had all the ability, self-reliance, prestige, and opportunity
that were needed. But his moral nature was below the task. He had
neither the insight, nor the sympathy, nor the noble ambition of
Caesar, and he preferred to re-establish the senatorial oligarchy.
[Illustration: Marius on the ruins of Carthage.]
When Sulla crushed the Marian party Caesar had just arrived at manhood.
Though of an old patrician house, he had yet a family connection with
the democratic party, Marius having married his aunt. He himself had
married a daughter of the democratic leader Cinna, and for refusing to
divorce her he was proscribed by Sulla, but managed to keep in hiding
till the storm was past. After the death of the great reactionist
(B.C. 78), he seized every opportunity of reviving the spirit of the
popular party; as, for instance, by publicly honoring the memory of
Marius, bringing to justice murderers of the proscription, and
courageously raising his single voice in the Senate against the
illegal execution of Catiline's partisans (B.C. 63). Clearly seeing
the necessity for personal government, at a time when his own services
and distinctions were not such as to entitle him to aspire to it,
Caesar did his best to secure it for Pompey, then far the foremost man
in Rome, by strenuously supporting measures which virtually placed the
empire at his absolute disposal for an indefinite period. A fairly
good soldier, but a most vain, unreliable, and incompetent statesman,
Pompey after five years let these powers slip through his hands.
[Illustration: Julius Caesar.]
Caesar was by this time thirty-eight (B.C. 62). He had steadily risen
in influence and official rank; and it was, no doubt, now that he
determined to take the great task into his own hands. He was the
recognized chief of the popular party, which aimed at concentrating
Republican government in the hands of a single person, as the only
means of bridling the oligarchy. But this was not to be accomplished
merely by popular votes, as many a democratic leader had found to his
cost. Caesar needed an army and a military reputation, and with rare
patience he set himself to acquire both. By a coalition with
Pompey--now obliged to treat him as an equal--he obtained the
consulship (B.C. 59), which on its expiration entitled him to a great
military command.
Roman generals had of late preferred to extend their conquests
eastward, and to win comparatively easy and lucrative triumphs in
Asia, over people who had possessed for long ages a type of
civilization suited to them, and who therefore could never thoroughly
assimilate Western manners and institutions. All this time Gaul, lying
at the gates of Italy, was neglected (only the district between the
Cevennes and the Alps having been reduced), because the people were
more warlike, and less booty was to be gained. Yet, till that conquest
should be effected, Rome's work of civilizing the world was standing
still; nay, it was always menaced by northern invasions. This field of
action, then, Caesar marked out for himself, in which he could prepare
the means for assuming power at home, and at the same time render the
highest service to his country and humanity. His ardent spirit, his
incredible energy in all circumstances of his life, astonished his
contemporaries. Time pressed, for he was no longer young. While he was
absent from Rome, what revolutions might not mar his plans! Yet, ten
continuous years did he devote to this great task, which, if he had
achieved nothing else, would make his name one of the greatest in
history. In those ten years he conquered Gaul, from the Pyrenees to
the Rhine and the British Channel; conquered her so thoroughly, and
treated her so sensibly, that when the fierce struggle was over, she
frankly and even proudly accepted her new position. The culture, the
institutions, even the language of the victors, were eagerly adopted.
The grandsons of the men who had fought so gallantly against Caesar,
won full citizenship, took their seats in the Senate, and commanded
Roman armies.
These ten years decided the future of the West, and therefore of
Humanity. It is not merely the central position and natural advantages
of France, nor yet the admirable qualities of her people, which have
made her throughout mediaeval and modern history, the foremost of
European states. It is even more the result of her rapid and thorough
acceptance of Roman civilization. This made her the heir of Rome. This
enabled her, long afterward, to Romanize Germany and England in some
degree, and as it were at second-hand, by the arms of Charlemagne and
William.
It had been arranged between Caesar and Pompey, that during the absence
of the former in Gaul, the latter should act with the popular party,
and keep the nobility in the condition of impotence to which it had
been reduced in the consulship of Caesar. Partly from jealousy of
Caesar, partly from sheer incapacity, Pompey, after much vacillation
and duplicity, finally allied himself with the nobles, thinking with
their aid to crush his rival and thereafter to be supreme. The nobles,
for their part, thought they would know how to deal with Pompey if
once Caesar was out of the way. In the negotiations which preceded the
civil war, Caesar showed a moderation and fairness in striking contrast
with the unscrupulous and headstrong violence of the nobles, who had
not even formal legality on their side. But when he was finally
summoned to hand over his province and army to a nominee of the
Senate, on pain of being declared a public enemy, and when the
tribunes who had reversed the resolution of the Senate were obliged to
fly for their lives to his camp, he suddenly crossed the river
Rubicon, the boundary of his province, and marched on Rome (B.C. 49).
He had but one legion with him; the bulk of his army was far away in
its Gallic cantonments. The forces of Pompey were overwhelmingly
superior in numbers. But the rapid and daring advance of Caesar
prevented their concentration. He came, not merely the adored general
of a veteran army, but the long-tried and consistent leader of the
liberal party, who had never swerved from his principles, never
betrayed his friends, never flinched from dangers. Fascinated by his
success and encouraged by his clemency, towns everywhere opened their
gates and Pompeian levies joined him, swelling his army at every stage
as he swept down Italy.
Pompey, for his part, was not sorry to have a pretext for moving
eastward toward the scene of his early triumphs, where his military
prestige and his personal influence would cause all the client states
to rally round him, and the sulky and suspicious nobles would find
themselves overshadowed. So he crossed the Adriatic, leaving the large
veteran army in Spain, which was under his orders, to take care of
itself. Thither Caesar proceeded as soon as he had secured Italy, bent
on making sure of the West before doing anything else. When the
Spanish legions were beaten, he lost no time in following Pompey, who
had found the respite all too short for drilling his large but raw
force of Romans, and organizing the masses of Asiatics whom he had
summoned to his standard. In the campaign that ensued, the conqueror
of the East fully maintained his old military reputation; but at
length, driven by the clamor of the nobles to risk a pitched battle,
he suffered a crushing defeat on the field of Pharsalia (B.C. 48).
Flying to Egypt, still an independent kingdom, he was assassinated by
order of the government.
The beaten party rallied again, first in Africa, then in Spain; and of
the three years and nine months of life that remained to Caesar, much
the greater portion was spent at the head of his army. He, therefore,
had not time to give any complete organization to his new government.
But his intentions are clearly discernible in outline. Supreme power,
legislative as well as executive, was to be vested in a single ruler,
governing not by divine right, but as the representative of the
community, and in its interest. This was indeed an ideal by no means
novel to Romans. Scipio had brooded over it. Caius Gracchus had for a
moment realized it. The oldest institutions and traditions told of it.
It was the power of the ancient kings theoretically continued to, and
in grave emergencies actually exercised by, the magistrates of the
Republic during its best days. It had been increasingly overshadowed
by the Senate. That body was now to be reduced to its original
consultative office. The functions of the executive had been gradually
divided among several magistrates. They were now to be re-concentrated.
Above all, annual election--the cherished institution of all
oligarchies, open or disguised--was to be replaced by life-tenure,
with power to name a successor. The subjects of Rome were to be
admitted to citizenship, wherever and whenever fit for it; and there
is reason to believe that Caesar intended to move much faster in this
direction than his successor did. Rome itself, from the mistress of
the Empire, was to become its capital and most dignified municipality.
All old parties--Caesar's own included--were to consider themselves at
an end. "To the victors the spoils!" was a cry rebuked from the first.
For the vanquished of Pharsalia there was not only amnesty, but
admission to the highest grades of the public service, if they would
bury their old grudge and recognize the government. Pauperism among
the lower class, and insolvency among the upper--ulcers not admitting
of a radical cure--were treated with judicious palliatives. Taxation
was reduced, expenditure was increased, and yet the balance in the
treasury at Caesar's death was tenfold what it had ever been before--a
proof of the frightful waste and corruption from which the Roman world
was rescued by the overthrow of the oligarchy.
Of the administrative work of Caesar it is impossible here to give any
adequate idea. A reform of the calendar, which served the West till
1582, and serves Russia still; a recasting of the whole provincial
administration; a codification of Roman law; a census of the Empire; a
uniform gold coinage; a public library; a metropolitan police;
building regulations; sanitary regulations; an alteration of the
course of the Tiber, which would have drained the marshes--all these
grand projects, and more, some carried to completion, some only
sketched out, teemed from the active brain of the great organizer, in
the brief moments he could spare from military cares in these last
months of his life--a devouring activity, an all-embracing capacity,
such as perhaps never shone forth in man before or since. What Roman
incorporation meant for the ancient world was at last revealed. The
war havoc of seven centuries had found its justification.
[Illustration: The Ides of March.]
In the midst of this glorious and beneficent career, at the age of
fifty-five (57?), Caesar, whose frank and fearless spirit disdained
suspicion or precaution, was assassinated by a knot of rancorous,
perfidious aristocrats, whom he had pardoned and promoted. Their
purblind spite was powerless to avert the inevitable advent of
monocracy. What they did effectually extinguish for more than a
century, was the possibility of amnesty, conciliation, and mutual
confidence. Careless as usual of historical truth, the great English
poet has glorified the murderers of Caesar. Dante, never forgetting the
moral responsibility of art, has reserved the lowest circle of hell
for Brutus, Cassius, and Judas Iscariot.
It imports little to the greatness of such a one as Caesar, to add that
in an age of oratory he stood in the first rank of orators; that his
historical writings are an unrivalled model of vigor, lucidity, and
elegance; that he carried his scientific culture to a point very
unusual among his countrymen; and that his personal prowess and feats
of endurance were the admiration of veteran soldiers. Women loved him,
and he loved them. Enjoying life thoroughly, he was temperate in all
things. To no man has it been given to approach more nearly to the
perfection of human nature--complete, evenly balanced, and
self-controlled.