Caesar appeals to his Army
Caesar appeals to his Army.--The Tribunes join him at Rimini.--Panic and Flight of the Senate.--Incapacity of Pompey.--Fresh Negotiations.-- Advance of Caesar.--The Country Districts refuse to arm against him.-- Capture of Corfinium.--Release of the Prisoners.--Offers of Caesar.-- Continued Hesitation of Cicero.--Advises Pompey to make Peace.--Pompey, with the Senate and Consuls, flies to Greece.--Cicero's Reflections.-- Pompey to be another Sylla.--Caesar Mortal, and may die by more Means than one.
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
[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
[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
[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:
[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.
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