fell into the hands of the Romans, who seized on the spoil, and who had
become so independent by their temporary wealth, that they criticised,
approved, and abused or disobeyed, when and why they pleased, the orders
of their general.
Mithridates, taking advantage of this state of things, collected a
numerous army, and fell wherever he could upon the Roman garrisons. On
one occasion he approached so near the enemy as to be within a stone's
throw, and as they happened to be throwing stones, he received one on
the knee; while an arrow, fixing itself under the eye, at once opened it
to the full extent of his danger. He soon recovered from the effect of
his wounds, and was ready by the ensuing spring to attack C. Triarius,
when a Roman soldier, disguised as a native, pretended to whisper
something in the ear of Mithridates, at the same time giving him a most
unfriendly poke in the ribs with a concealed weapon. The King was so
unprepared for the wound that he fainted right away, and his troops were
so taken up in catching him, that they forgot to catch the foe, who were
suffered to escape, though they might otherwise have been easily seized
upon. Mithridates, having come to, expressed his anger at the
carelessness of his officers, and, notwithstanding his wound and his
age, he would have attempted the pursuit--under difficulties--of the
enemy. The next morning he renewed the attack on Triarius, and cut to
pieces 7000 men; an operation, however, which seems almost too extensive
for even the scissors of Fate, and we cannot help regarding it,
therefore, as a sheer invention of the graver historians.
Pompey was now sent to supersede Lucullus in the command; a measure that
had become doubly necessary, for Lucullus had not only failed as a
leader, but his soldiers were daily refusing to follow him. When his
troops approached within a short distance of Mithridates, they seemed
more inclined to engage with him in a friendly than in a hostile sense,
for many of them joined his forces. Soon after the arrival of Pompey, a
battle was fought by night on the banks of the Euphrates. The moon,
being near its setting, had lengthened the reflection cast by the Roman
troops, and the soldiers of Mithridates, mistaking the reflection for
the substance, began fighting most energetically with mere shadows.
Every missile, thrown apparently into the midst of the Romans, was as
ineffective as a miss, and the soldiers of Mithridates believing the foe
to be invulnerable, fled in a state of panic. The King himself fought
valiantly at the head of his body-guard; a corps which counted among its
members his own wife, who, in the arms of a man, committed fearful havoc
upon the Roman soldiery. Notwithstanding the powerful assistance of this
strong-minded and able-bodied woman, Mithridates was compelled to fly,
though he made extensive arrangements for renewing the war on the first
favourable opportunity. This opportunity seems never to have arrived,
or, if it came, it was lost by the treachery and cowardice of his son
Pharnaces, who persuaded the soldiers that his father was an old fool to
think of fighting with the Romans. Several of the principal officers
took the same view of the subject, and joined in a conspiracy to depose
the King, for the purpose of setting up Pharnaces as his substitute.
Mithridates was in bed one morning, when, woke by a considerable
shouting under his window, he heard the words, "Pharnaces is king!" and
sent to know the meaning of such an outcry. The answer was
unsatisfactory, when the veteran, mounting his charger, made a speech on
horseback, which nobody listened to. His son gave orders that he should
be seized, when the old man, putting spurs to his horse, galloped up a
hill, which for a man in the decline of life, who had been going down
hill rather rapidly, was a bold and hazardous experiment. From the
eminence he had gained, he saw the depth to which he had fallen; for he
witnessed the coronation of his son Pharnaces, amidst the acclamations
of the army. The poor old man was so affected at the sight, that he took
from a fold in his dress a deadly drug, which, in anticipation of an
alarming self-sacrifice, he always carried about with him. He was about
to take off the mixture, when his two daughters, who were standing at
his side, entreated the privilege of a drink at the deadly decoction.
For some time he hesitated; but he was at length touched by their looks
of mute entreaty at the fatal liquid. Dividing the contents of the
bottle into three parts, he gave a dose to each of his daughters,
reserving a dose for himself; and on a signal from the old gentleman,
the two young ladies swallowed the nauseous stuff they had so earnestly
solicited.
[Illustration: Mithridates, his rash act.]
The poison took effect at once upon the females; but their father
experienced only a disagreeable taste, without the deadly result he had
looked for. Though too much for two, it was not enough for three, and
the poor old man tottered about in a state of nausea, unattended with
danger. Having been previously tired of existence, he was now thoroughly
sick of it, and turning to a loyal servant at his side, he requested
that he might immediately be put out of his misery. The faithful fellow,
making a compromise between his morality and his duty, turned away his
eyes, and held out the point of his sword, when Mithridates, coming
speedily to the point, fell on the outstretched weapon.
Thus ended the Mithridatic War, as well as Mithridates himself; and his
cowardly son Pharnaces sent in his adhesion to Pompey, acknowledging, in
a spirit of humility and subservience to Rome, that he only held his
kingdom at the pleasure of the Senate.
[Illustration: Mithridates.]
The character of Mithridates has been drawn by so many different
delineators, that his portrait, as taken by the historians, presents a
daub in which it is difficult to recognise the true features. So many
skilful artists have been employed upon the task, that we hesitate in
submitting Mithridates to a fresh canvassing at our hands; nor are we
desirous of using the pencil, as some have done, for the purpose of
imparting additional blackness. Some of those who have taken the sketch
in hand, have thrown in the shadows with a ten-pound brush, while others
have clothed him in several coats and overcoats of varnish, for the
purpose of glossing over the defects of his character. All are ready to
admit that he was an able ruler; but he had not that perfect uprightness
and straightness which give to a ruler the qualities most to be desired.
He could speak twenty-five different languages; and thus he was often
able to talk over those with whom he might not have been able to come to
an understanding, had his conversation been less versatile. He was of
gigantic stature, which caused him to be looked up to by those who were
placed under his authority. Notwithstanding his excessive height, he was
not at all ungainly in his appearance, but his well-moulded frame was a
perfect picture.
His fondness for the fine arts was exhibited in the rapacity with which
he seized upon the choicest efforts of human genius, which were in turn
stolen from him by other amateurs, whose patronage of talent was evinced
in the ardour with which they appropriated the result of its labours. In
Sinope, one of his cities, was found an astronomical sphere, which seems
to show that the science of the stars was within the circle of his
knowledge. In one of his fortresses was discovered a statue of himself
no less than twelve feet high, in pure gold, which proved not only the
value he set upon himself, but showed how completely he was wrapped up
in the precious metal.
Credit has been given him for the possession of many domestic virtues;
because, though he was cruel to one half of his numerous wives, he
treated the other half with considerate tenderness. He excited the
terror of his foes, but enjoyed the affection of his servants; and
though hated in the field, he was beloved in the kitchen. According to
Paterculus, Mithridates was a man of whom it is difficult to speak, and
still more difficult to say nothing.[74] The same authority confers upon
him a character for greatness of mind during the whole of his life; but
when, having a great mind to kill himself, he prevailed on a slave to
put him to death, he evinced--to use a contradictory expression--a vast
amount of mental littleness.
FOOTNOTE:
[74] Mithridates, Ponticus Rex, vir neque silendus, neque dicendus sine
curâ. Vell. Paterc., lib. ii., c. 18.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH.
CONSPIRACY OF CATILINE. INTRODUCTION OF CICERO. CÆSAR, POMPEY, CRASSUS,
AND CO.
[Illustration]
A Republic without republicans may be an exceptional state of things;
but ancient as well as modern history furnishes proof that the existence
of a republic is not incompatible with the absence of anything for which
such a form of government is usually desired. It is now an ascertained
fact, that the people have no greater enemies to liberty than
themselves; and that universal suffrage is the surest instrument to
effect the objects of a despot. Equality, in a republican sense, seems
to imply a condition in which all are equally debased; and a nation
appears to be never so thoroughly slavish as when it is free to choose
its own ruler.
The Romans had for some time been in the habit of placing themselves in
the hands of a succession of tyrants and knaves, who obtained popularity
by the display of the worst attributes. One would win the public voice
by his boldness as a thief; another would render himself the elect of
the people by his sanguinary successes as a wholesale murderer. It is
unfortunate for what is termed the liberal cause, that the vulgarest
qualities often attract the largest share of applause; and that those
who are entrusted most freely with the confidence of the people are
almost always the most unscrupulous in betraying it.
Rome had now sunk to the lowest condition; and society, under the
republic, had become so dissolute, that its dissolution might be looked
for as a natural consequence. Among the nobles of the period was a
certain mass of cruelty and corruption, under the name of Sergius
Catiline. He boasted of a long line in connection with his family tree;
but a much shorter line, in connection with any ordinary tree, would
have been more appropriate to his merits. Having spent all his own
money, he spent as much as he could of other people's, by running into
debt as deeply as possible. In order to meet some of his old engagements
sufficiently to enable him to contract new, he murdered his brother,
with a few more of his family connections, and, in fact, justified the
opinion formed of him on account of his antecedents, by killing his
relatives. Having obtained a Proprætorship in Africa, he followed up his
career of private swindling, by the wholesale practice of public
robbery. He used his office for the purposes of extortion; and the only
proof he gave of exactness was in the exactions to which he submitted
all who were under his authority.
On his return to Rome he hoped to have a wider scope for his dishonesty
in the office of Consul, to which he aspired; and he formed a party of
ruined spendthrifts, whose only chance of supporting themselves was by
supporting him as a candidate for power. These desperadoes had nothing
to lose, and everything to gain,--all that they had to lose being their
own, and all that they had to gain being the property of others.
Catiline had attracted the sympathies of these adventurers by promising
to divide among them all the official salaries; and he had rallied round
him a considerable number of adherents by offering to the "million" an
opportunity of helping themselves to that which did not belong to them.
He professed to be able to relieve all classes at once, by relieving the
poor of their burdens, and the rich of their property. The dregs of the
populace were easily stirred up, and even some of the nominal nobles
were base enough to join in a conspiracy against their own order. The
object of the conspiracy was to murder the whole of the senate by a
massacre _en masse_; but the scheme was frustrated by that treachery
which is almost sure to be found among a set of men who are banded
together for a bad purpose. One Curius was induced to gratify the
curiosity of a woman, named Fulvia, with whom he was in love; and the
secret having reached female ears, flew to the tip of a female tongue,
when the secret oozed out as naturally as water finding its level.
Cicero, who had been the competitor of Catiline for the Consulship, soon
became aware of the facts; and the former resolved to try and talk the
conspiracy down, by making it the subject of several bursts of indignant
eloquence.
On the entrance of so illustrious a person as Cicero on the historical
scene, it is fit that we should act the part of cicerone, for the
purpose of introducing him. This celebrated character was born on the
3rd of January, in the year of the City 647, at Arpinum, where his
father had a seat before the future orator was capable of standing. His
grandfather was a man of some consideration, pecuniary as well as moral;
for he was possessed of some property, and looked up to as an authority
in questions of local politics. He had two sons, the eldest of whom,
Marcus, was the father of the celebrated Marcus Tullius, from whom the
family has derived that indelible mark which time is not likely to
obliterate. After receiving the rudiments of his education at his native
place, he was sent to Rome, where he studied Greek; and the flame of
oratory was first kindled in his mind by contact with the Greek poetic
fire. As soon as he had assumed the toga, he became wrapped up in manly
pursuits, and was placed under the care of Mucius Scævola, the augur,
who augured extremely well of his pupil. The young Cicero soon evinced
a turn for poetry, which caused his head to be constantly running upon
poetical feet; and he came out rather strong in numbers at a very early
period. At the appointed age he joined the army; for the laws of his
country required that on his entrance into life he should incur the risk
of being sent out of it. He was present in the Marsic War, at the taking
of the Samnite camp; but being in-tent on another part of the field, he
saw little of the battle. At the end of the war he devoted himself to
literary pursuits, and wrote his work _De Inventione_, which, in
accordance with the maxim that necessity is the mother of invention, no
doubt derived its existence from the author's necessities.
[Illustration: Fulvia.]
He next studied the art of reasoning, under Diodorus, who came to live
under Cicero's roof, so that the latter probably found, or rather
provided, lodging, while the Stoic "stood" the logic, which was
undoubtedly a reasonable consideration for the accommodation afforded
him. In his twenty-sixth year Cicero came out regularly as a professed
orator; and the public voice soon accorded to his own a reputation of
the highest character.
After talking incessantly for nearly two years, he found it necessary to
take breath in retirement; and proceeded to Athens and to Rhodes, where
he cultivated a more subdued style of oratory, getting rid of a
disagreeable redundancy of action, and avoiding that motion, of course,
of the arms, which is the common defect of the youthful advocate.
On his return to Rome, after an absence of two years, he appeared in the
courts of law with distinguished success, and had the next best business
to those popular leaders, Cotta and Hortensius. The three learned
brethren were all of them successful candidates for the offices of
Consul and Quæstor, in the last of which capacity Cicero was sent to
Sicily. There his chief employment was to keep up a good supply of wheat
for the capital, and, by the production of large crops of corn, he
cultivated his growing popularity. During his Quæstorship he visited
Syracuse, and discovered the tomb of Archimedes, which was thoroughly
overgrown with briers, presenting an apt monument to one who had
trodden, during life, the thorny paths of science. Cicero left the
island with the pleasing idea that all Rome had been resounding with the
praises of his administration; but, on landing at Puteoli, he was not a
little disgusted at meeting a friend who asked him "where he had been,
and what was the latest news in the city?" Cicero, at once perceiving
that out of sight and out of mind were the same thing, determined to
keep himself henceforth in the public eye to prevent its being shut to
his merits.
It was not long after this period of his history that he came into
collision with the conspirator, Catiline, whom he denounced before the
assembled Senate, in an oration which has been preserved to this day, by
the pungency of its sarcastic reasoning. Every sentence smacked of Attic
salt, and every word was so much pepper to the guilty Catiline. The
latter attempted a reply; but the senators were seized simultaneously
with one of those coughs which spread like an influenza over an
unwilling audience. The mask was now fairly torn off; and Catiline stood
revealed in all his naturally atrocious features. He fled from Rome; but
Cicero continued to show that though his hostility was all talk, it was
of the most effective kind; for he sent forth speech after speech, and
every sentence involved a sentence of "guilty" against Catiline. All
those conspirators who had remained in Rome were seized, and strangled
by the executioner, who, when they cried for pity, abruptly choked their
utterance.
[Illustration: _Cicero denouncing Catiline._]
The conspiracy, though in great part stifled, was not wholly
extinguished; for Catiline did his utmost to keep it alive, by
assembling an army in Etruria. There he was to have been opposed by the
Consul, C. Antonius; but that individual pleaded illness, and declared
that a severe headache would preclude him from encountering the din of
war, while a hoarseness, which he said had seized him by the throat,
incapacitated him, as he alleged, for giving the word of command on
the field of battle. His troops were, however, so determined on action,
that they no sooner heard of their general being an invalid, than they
insisted that his appointment was invalidated, and they proceeded to
business under the command of his legate, M. Petreius. A fierce battle
ensued, at Pistoria, and both sides fought like lions; though, to say he
fought like a tiger would have been more appropriate to one of the race
of Cati-line. Nobody fled, if the accounts are to be believed; but 3000
conspirators fell with their swords in their hands, causing a perfect
mountain of slain; and, to crown the whole, their leader is alleged to
have formed the summit of this cadaverous pyramid. Those of the
conspirators who were not killed by the sword were suffocated under the
heaps of their companions; and the conspiracy itself was effectually
smothered.
Cicero having saved his country, went out of office,--a course exactly
opposite to that followed by modern statesmen, who sometimes quit the
service of their country when they have placed it in danger. He received
the thanks of the Senate; was hailed as Pater Patriæ, the father of his
country, and was invested with a civic crown,--a head-dress of
oak-leaves; the material being a fitting type of that popularity which
falls away and is scattered to the winds with such fatal facility.
The fickleness of public favour was speedily shown in the case of
Cicero; for it was proposed that Pompey should be recalled from Asia, to
restore the Constitution; it being one of the inconveniences of a
republic, that though the constitution is said to be always the best in
the world, it is always in need of a succession of restoratives. Pompey
landed at Brundusium, where he disbanded all his army, in order to show
his attachment to republican simplicity,--a term which is often
misapplied; for the simplicity of republicans consists chiefly in their
aptitude for being imposed upon.
Though Pompey arrived at Rome without his soldiers, he took care to show
his grateful sense of services to come, by causing every man of them to
receive a sum equal to about forty-five pounds sterling from the public
treasury. He devoted a portion of his gains to building a temple,
ostensibly to Minerva, but, in reality, dedicated to himself; for it was
inscribed with an account of his victories.
Having sought in vain the support of the Senate, he abandoned the
aristocratic party, and threw himself upon the people, who received him
with open arms; but the arms that are open to admit a candidate for
popularity are often equally open to let him fall from his position.
As Pompey is destined to lose his life before the end of the chapter, it
may be as well to give some account of his birth, that the reader may be
able to estimate the loss at its true value.
Pompeius Cneius was born on the 30th of September, B.C. 106, a few
months later than Cicero, and breathed his first at about the time when
Jugurtha breathed his last, in a Roman prison. The family of Pompey
belonged to the plebs; and one of his ancestors may be said to have
lived upon air, for he was by profession a flute-player. His father,
Pompeius Strabo, had imbibed aristocratic ideas, and fought in the
Marsic War; but he seems to have despised the laurel of fame for the
more profitable branch of plunder. His wealth had been considerable; and
after his death his son was accused of having participated in the
ill-gotten gains, when young Pompey, knowing the corruption of the
tribunals, married the daughter of the judge, as a sure mode of getting
a decision in his favour.
His acquittal followed as a matter of course; for when public officials
were immersed in every kind of selfishness and degradation, the sinking
of the judge in the father-in-law was comparatively venial. By dishonest
means the elder Pompey had come to a great estate, from a low condition;
and the son sought to hide, in the abundance of his means, the meanness
of his origin. He became proud and upstart, evincing a predilection for
aristocracy, which often animates those of lofty talent and low birth;
who frequently affect the littlenesses of the nominally great, instead
of showing that true greatness can exist among the so-called little.
Self aggrandisement was his grand, or rather his petty, object; and he
owes to his ignoble attempts to elevate himself, the low place he
occupies in the opinion of the impartial historian.
Soon after his return from Asia to Rome, he celebrated a triumph, which
had all the attributes of a vulgar puff; for there were carried before
him long lists of his achievements, followed by several wagon-loads of
goods, the produce of much pillage. Finding his political designs
opposed by Cato and others, he was anxious to form a party of his own;
and C. J. Cæsar, who saw the necessities of Pompey, determined on
turning them to his own advantage. He made overtures, to which the other
listened, and effected a reconciliation between Pompey and Crassus, who
having both met, were capable of contributing in more senses than one to
the success of the plans of Cæsar. These three men entered into a sort
of political union, which is usually distinguished by the name of The
First Triumvirate.
Cæsar had become Consul in the year of the City 694, (B.C. 59) when the
party of the Senate, wishing to have a check upon him, practised every
sort of bribery to obtain the election of one Bibulus as his colleague.
This individual was a mere nobody, with a remarkable deficiency of head;
and the small wits of the day were accustomed to date their notes "in
the Consulship of Julius and Cæsar," instead of in the Consulship of
Cæsar and Bibulus.