CICERO DISCOVERS THE CATILINARIAN CONSPIRACY
The excitement caused by Pompey’s return to Rome was soon over. Then
the great general found that, in spite of all that he had done for his
country, and in spite of the splendour of his triumph, there were many
in the city who did not welcome his return.
His very first request to the Senate was refused, and it may be that
Pompey thought half regretfully of his disbanded army. To it his
slightest wish had been law. The Optimates, too, had grown used to his
absence, and were ready to thwart or ignore him.
So Pompey determined to join the two most powerful men in Rome at that
time. One of these was the wealthy Crassus, the other was Julius Cæsar,
who was destined to become the greatest man Rome had ever known.
Pompey did not like Crassus, and he soon became jealous of Julius
Cæsar. But in the meantime these three men formed a secret union, for
they thought that then they alone would govern Rome. This union was
afterwards called The First Triumvirate. When Pompey married Julia, the
beautiful daughter of Cæsar, it seemed probable that the father and
husband would share many interests.
For a time another great man named Cicero threw in his lot with the
three leaders. It is of him that I wish to tell you now.
Cicero was a great orator and man of letters. In 63 B.C. he was chosen
Consul. During the lifetime of Sulla, Cicero’s influence was used on
behalf of the plebeians. But before long his reverence for the Rome
of the past made him ready to denounce any side which threatened to
disregard the ancient laws.
In the end he joined the Optimates, because he believed that if they
would cease to live only for pleasure, and would learn to govern the
provinces with justice, the old order of things might be restored.
By eloquent speeches he tried to rouse the nobles to live more useful
and upright lives. But they paid little heed to his words, partly,
perhaps, because they did not find that his teaching rang true. For
they knew that he did not always act justly although he bade them do
so, that he often used his eloquence to defend his friend or his party,
when it was plain that the cause of neither was just. And so his words
had not the power which true words always have.
Two years before Cicero became Consul, Rome had been greatly disturbed
by the discovery of a plot to kill the Consuls, to seize the
government, and even to burn Rome.
This plot, which was never proved, was known as The First Catilinarian
Conspiracy, for Catiline, who had belonged to Sulla’s party, was said
to have planned it.
In 63 B.C. Cicero declared that a new plot was being prepared by the
same leader.
Catiline had gathered around him a band of the wildest of the popular
party. His followers hoped that Catiline would be elected Consul, and
that then he would reward them. One of the ways in which he could do
this would be by passing a law for the abolition of debts.
But Catiline was not chosen Consul, while Cicero was. It was then,
in his rage and disappointment, that Catiline was said to have made
a deliberate plot to assassinate Cicero, to attack the houses of the
senators, and to burn the city. While this was being done, an invading
army was to march into Rome.
Now there seemed reason to be alarmed, for it was known that troops
were assembling near Fæsulæ, a small town about three miles from
Florence. And not only so, but their captain was Manlius, an old
officer of Sulla. Since the terrible proscriptions, it was natural that
any one who had been connected with Sulla was feared as well as hated.
Although Cicero had no doubt that a plot was on foot, he could not find
proof enough to arrest the conspirators. Yet at a meeting of Senate,
early in November, the Consul rose, and in a vehement speech denounced
Catiline, who was present. The conspirator sat apart from the other
senators, for he knew that they were suspicious of him.
When Cicero’s speech ended, Catiline begged the Senate not to judge him
hastily, and then he left the Assembly.
That same night the conspirator left Rome apparently for Marseilles,
where, if a Roman chose to live in exile, he could escape being
impeached by his fellow-citizens.
On his journey, Catiline wrote a letter to a friend, begging him
to protect his wife, and at the same time he assured him that he,
Catiline, was innocent, ‘save only that he wished to help his
countrymen who were poor and downtrodden.’
The following morning Cicero made another speech against Catiline, and
as the people clamoured to know why the conspirator had been allowed to
escape, the Consul confessed that he had not proof sufficient to arrest
him.
Before long the city was startled to hear that the fugitive had not
gone to Marseilles, but to the camp at Fæsulæ, where he was now in
command of the army.
[Illustration: The following morning Cicero made another speech against
Catiline.]