Roman Civil War
Seizing Caesar's officers when they could find them, they put them invariably to death without remorse.
Cicero considered that the Civil War ought to have ended with
Pharsalia; and in this opinion most reasonable men among the
conservatives were agreed. They had fought one battle; and it had
gone against them. To continue the struggle might tear the Empire
to pieces, but could not retrieve a lost cause; and prudence and
patriotism alike recommended submission to the verdict of fortune.
It is probable that this would have been the result, could Caesar
have returned to Italy immediately after his victory. Cicero
himself refused to participate in further resistance. Cato offered
him a command at Corcyra, but he declined it with a shudder, and
went back to Brindisi; and all but those whose consciences forbade
them to hope for pardon, or who were too proud to ask for it, at
first followed his example. Scipio, Cato, Labienus, Afranius,
Petreius, were resolute to fight on to the last; but even they had
no clear outlook, and they wandered about the Mediterranean,
uncertain what to do, or whither to turn. Time went on, however,
and Caesar did not appear. Rumor said at one time that he was
destroyed at Alexandria. The defeat of Calvinus by Pharnaces was an
ascertained fact. Spain was in confusion. The legions in Italy were
disorganized, and society, or the wealthy part of society,
threatened by the enemies of property, began to call for some one
to save it. All was not lost. Pompey's best generals were still
living. His sons, Sextus and Cnaeus, were brave and able. The fleet
was devoted to them and to their father's cause, and
Caesar's officers had failed, in his absence, to raise a naval
force which could show upon the sea. Africa was a convenient
rallying point. Since Curio's defeat, King Juba had found no
one to dispute his supremacy, and between Juba and the aristocracy
who were bent on persisting in the war, an alliance was easily
formed. While Caesar was perilling his own interest to remain in
Asia to crush Pharnaces, Metellus Scipio was offering a barbarian
chief the whole of Roman Africa, as the price of his assistance, in
a last effort to reverse the fortune of Pharsalia. Under these
scandalous conditions, Scipio, Labienus, Cato, Afranius, Petreius,
Faustus Sylla, the son of the Dictator, Lucius Caesar, and the rest
of the irreconcilables, made Africa their new centre of operations.
Here they gathered to themselves the inheritors of the Syllan
traditions, and made raids on the Italian coasts and into Sicily
and Sardinia. Seizing Caesar's officers when they could find
them, they put them invariably to death without remorse. Cicero
protested honorably against the employment of treacherous savages,
even for so sacred a cause as the defence of the constitution; 1 but
Cicero was denounced as a traitor seeking favor with the conqueror,
and the desperate work went on. Caesar's long detention in the
East gave the confederates time. The young Pompeys were strong at
sea. From Italy there was an easy passage for adventurous
disaffection. The shadow of a Pompeian Senate sat once more,
passing resolutions, at Utica; while Cato was busy organizing an
army, and had collected as many as thirteen legions out of the
miscellaneous elements which drifted in to him. Caesar had sent
orders to Cassius Longinus to pass into Africa from Spain, and
break up these combinations; but Longinus had been at war with his
own provincials. He had been driven out of the Peninsula, and had
lost his own life in leaving it. Caesar, like Cicero, had believed
that the war had ended at Pharsalia. He found that the heads of the
Hydra had sprouted again, and were vomiting the old fire and fury.
Little interest could it give Caesar to match his waning years
against the blinded hatred of his countrymen. Ended the strife must
be, however, before order could be restored in Italy, and wretched
men take up again the quiet round of industry. Heavy work had to be
done in Rome. Caesar was consul now--annual consul, with no ten
years' interval any longer possible. Consul, dictator, whatever
name the people gave him, he alone held the reins; he alone was
able to hold them. Credit had to be restored; debtors had to be
brought to recognize their liabilities. Property had fallen in
value since the Civil Wars, and securities had to be freshly
estimated. The Senate required reformation; men of fidelity and
ability were wanted for the public offices. Pompey and Pompey's
friends would have drowned Italy in blood. Caesar disappointed
expectation by refusing to punish any one of his political
opponents. He killed no one. He deprived no one of his property. He
even protected the money-lenders, and made the Jews his constant
friends. Debts he insisted must be paid, bonds fulfilled, the
rights of property respected, no matter what wild hopes imagination
might have indulged in. Something only he remitted of the severity
of interest, and the poor in the city were allowed their lodgings
rent free for a year.
He restored quiet, and gave as much satisfaction as
circumstances permitted. His real difficulty was with the legions,
who had come back from Greece. They had deserved admirably well,
but they were unfortunately over-conscious of their merits.
Ill-intentioned officers had taught them to look for extravagant
rewards. Their expectations had not been fulfilled; and when they
supposed that their labors were over, they received orders to
prepare for a campaign in Africa. Sallust, the historian, was in
command of their quarters in Campania. They mutinied, and almost
killed him. He fled to Rome. The soldiers of the favored 10th
legion pursued him to the gates, and demanded speech with Caesar.
He bade them come to him, and with his usual fearlessness told them
to bring their swords.
The army was Caesar's life. In the army lay the future of
Rome, if Rome was to have a future. There, if anywhere, the
national spirit survived. It was a trying moment; but there was a
calmness in Caesar, a rising from a profound indifference to what
man or fortune could give or take from him, which no extremity
could shake.
The legionaries entered the city, and Caesar directed them to
state their complaints. They spoke of their services and their
sufferings. They said that they had been promised rewards, but
their rewards so far had been words, and they asked for their
discharge. They did not really wish for it. They did not expect it.
But they supposed that Caesar could not dispense with them, and
that they might dictate their own terms.
During the wars in Gaul, Caesar had been most munificent to his
soldiers. He had doubled their ordinary pay. He had shared the
spoils of his conquests with them. Time and leisure had alone been
wanting to him to recompense their splendid fidelity in the
campaigns in Spain and Greece. He had treated them as his children;
no commander had ever been more careful of his soldiers' lives;
when addressing the army he had called them always
"commilitones," "comrades,"
"brothers-in-arms."
The familiar word was now no longer heard from him. "You
say well, quirites," 2 he answered; "you have labored hard, and
you have suffered much; you desire your discharge--you have it. I
discharge you who are present. I discharge all who have served
their time. You shall have your recompense. It shall never be said
of me that I made use of you when I was in danger, and was
ungrateful to you when the peril was past."
"Quirites" he had called them; no longer Roman
legionaries, proud of their achievements, and glorying in their
great commander, but "quirites"--plain citizens. The
sight of Caesar, the familiar form and voice, the words, every
sentence of which they knew that he meant, cut them to the heart.
They were humbled, they begged to be forgiven. They said they would
go with him to Africa, or to the world's end. He did not at
once accept their penitence. He told them that lands had been
allotted to every soldier out of the ager publicus, or out
of his own personal estates. Suetonius says that the sections had
been carefully taken so as not to disturb existing occupants; and
thus it appeared that he had been thinking of them and providing
for them when they supposed themselves forgotten. Money, too, he
had ready for each, part in hand, part in bonds bearing interest,
to be redeemed when the war should be over. Again, passionately,
they implored to be allowed to continue with him. He relented, but
not entirely.
"Let all go who wish to go," he said; "I will
have none serve with me who serve unwillingly."
"All, all!" they cried; "not one of us will leave
you"--and not one went. The mutiny was the greatest peril,
perhaps, to which Caesar had ever been exposed. No more was said;
but Caesar took silent notice of the officers who had encouraged
the discontented spirit. In common things, Dion Cassius says, he
was the kindest and most considerate of commanders. He passed
lightly over small offences; but military rebellion in those who
were really responsible he never forgave.
[B.C. 46.] The African business
could now be attended to. It was again midwinter. Winter campaigns
were trying, but Caesar had hitherto found them answer to him; the
enemy had suffered more than himself; while, as long as an
opposition Senate was sitting across the Mediterranean, intrigue
and conspiracy made security impossible at home. Many a false
spirit now fawning at home on Caesar was longing for his
destruction. The army with which he would have to deal was less
respectable than that which Pompey had commanded at Durazzo, but it
was numerically as strong or stronger. Cato, assisted by Labienus,
had formed into legions sixty thousand Italians. They had a hundred
and twenty elephants, and African cavalry in uncounted multitudes.
Caesar perhaps despised an enemy too much whom he had so often
beaten. He sailed from Lilybaeum on the 19th of December, with a
mere handful of men, leaving the rest of his troops to follow as
they could. No rendezvous had been positively fixed, for between
the weather and the enemy it was uncertain where the troops would
be able to land, and the generals of the different divisions were
left to their discretion. Caesar on arriving seized and fortified a
defensible spot at Ruspinum. 3 The other legions dropped in slowly, and
before a third of them had arrived the enemy were swarming about
the camp, while the Pompeys were alert on the water to seize stray
transports or provision ships. There was skirmishing every day in
front of Caesar's lines. The Numidian horse surrounded his thin
cohorts like swarms of hornets. Labienus himself rode up on one
occasion to a battalion which was standing still under a shower of
arrows, and asked in mockery who they were. A soldier of the 10th
legion lifted his cap that his face might be recognized, hurled his
javelin for answer, and brought Labienus's horse to the ground.
But courage was of no avail in the face of overwhelming numbers.
Scipio's army collected faster than Caesar's, and
Caesar's young soldiers showed some uneasiness in a position so
unexpected. Caesar, however, was confident and in high spirits. 4 Roman
residents in the African province came gradually in to him, and
some African tribes, out of respect, it was said, for the memory of
Marius. A few towns declared against the Senate in indignation at
Scipio's promise that the province was to be abandoned to Juba.
Scipio replied with burning the Roman country houses and wasting
the lands, and still killing steadily every friend of Caesar that
he could lay hands on. Caesar's steady clemency had made no
difference. The senatorial faction went on as they had begun till
at length their ferocity was repaid upon them.
The reports from the interior became unbearable. Caesar sent an
impatient message to Sicily that, storm or calm, the remaining
legions must come to him, or not a house would be left standing in
the province. The officers were no longer what they had been. The
men came, but bringing only their arms and tools, without change of
clothes and without tents, though it was the rainy season. Good
will and good hearts, however, made up for other shortcomings.
Deserters dropped in thick from the Senate's army. King Juba,
it appeared, had joined them, and Roman pride had been outraged,
when Juba had been seen taking precedence in the council of war,
and Metellus Scipio exchanging his imperial purple in the royal
presence for a plain dress of white.
[April 6, B.C. 46.] The time of
clemency was past. Publius Ligarius was taken in a skirmish. He had
been one of the captives at Lerida who had given his word to serve
no further in the war. He was tried for breaking his engagement,
and was put to death. Still, Scipio's army kept the field in
full strength, the loss by desertions being made up by fresh
recruits sent from Utica by Cato. Caesar's men flinched from
facing the elephants, and time was lost while other elephants were
fetched from Italy, that they might handle them and grow familiar
with them. Scipio had been taught caution by the fate of Pompey,
and avoided a battle, and thus three months wore away before a
decisive impression had been made. But the clear dark eyes of the
conqueror of Pharsalia had taken the measure of the situation and
comprehended the features of it. By this time he had an effective
squadron of ships, which had swept off Pompey's cruisers; and
if Scipio shrank from an engagement it was possible to force him
into it. A division of Scipio's troops were in the peninsula of
Thapsus. 5 If Thapsus was blockaded at sea and besieged by
land, Scipio would be driven to come to its relief, and would have
to fight in the open country. Caesar occupied the neck of the
peninsula, and the result was what he knew it must be. Scipio and
Juba came down out of the hills with their united armies. Their
legions were beginning to form intrenchments, and Caesar was
leisurely watching their operations, when at the sight of the enemy
an irresistible enthusiasm ran through his lines. The cry rose for
instant attack; and Caesar, yielding willingly to the universal
impulse, sprang on his horse and led the charge in person. There
was no real fighting. The elephants which Scipio had placed in
front wheeled about and plunged back into the camp, trumpeting and
roaring. The vallum was carried at a rush, and afterward there was
less a battle than a massacre. Officers and men fled for their
lives like frightened antelopes, or flung themselves on their knees
for mercy. This time no mercy was shown. The deliberate cruelty
with which the war had been carried on had done its work at last.
The troops were savage, and killed every man that they overtook.
Caesar tried to check the carnage, but his efforts were unavailing.
The leaders escaped for the time by the speed of their horses. They
scattered with a general purpose of making for Spain. Labienus
reached it, but few besides him. Afranius and Faustus Sylla with a
party of cavalry galloped to Utica, which they expected to hold
till one of the Pompeys could bring vessels to take them off. The
Utican towns-people had from the first shown an inclination for
Caesar. Neither they nor any other Romans in Africa liked the
prospect of being passed over to the barbarians.
[B.C. 46.] Cowards smarting under
defeat are always cruel. The fugitives from Thapsus found that
Utica would not be available for their purpose, and in revenge they
began to massacre the citizens. Cato was still in the town. Cato
was one of those better natured men whom revolution yokes so often
with base companionship. He was shocked at the needless cruelty,
and bribed the murderous gang to depart. They were taken soon
afterward by Caesar's cavalry. Afranius and Sylla were brought
into the camp as prisoners. There was a discussion in the camp as
to what was to be done with them. Caesar wished to be lenient, but
the feeling in the legions was too strong. The system of pardons
could not be continued in the face of hatred so envenomed. The two
commanders were executed; Caesar contenting himself with securing
Sylla's property for his wife, Pompeia, the great Pompey's
daughter. Cato Caesar was most anxious to save; but Cato's
enmity was so ungovernable that he grudged Caesar the honor of
forgiving him. His animosity had been originally the natural
antipathy which a man of narrow understanding instinctively feels
for a man of genius. It had been converted by perpetual
disappointment into a monomania, and Caesar had become to him the
incarnation of every quality and every principle which he most
abhorred. Cato was upright, unselfish, incorruptibly pure in deed
and word; but he was a fanatic whom no experience could teach, and
he adhered to his convictions with the more tenacity, because
fortune or the disposition of events so steadily declared them to
be mistaken. He would have surrendered Caesar to the Germans as a
reward for having driven them back over the Rhine. He was one of
those who were most eager to impeach him for the acts of his
consulship, though the acts themselves were such as, if they had
been done by another, he would himself have most warmly approved;
and he was tempted by personal dislike to attach himself to men
whose object was to reimpose upon his country a new tyranny of
Sylla. His character had given respectability to a cause which, if
left to its proper defenders, would have appeared in its natural
baseness, and thus on him rested the responsibility for the color
of justice in which it was disguised. That after all which had
passed he should be compelled to accept his pardon at Caesar's
hands was an indignity to which he could not submit, and before the
conqueror could reach Utica he fell upon his sword and died.
Ultimus Romanorum has been the epitaph which posterity has
written on the tomb of Cato. Nobler Romans than he lived after him;
and a genuine son of the old Republic would never have consented to
surrender an imperial province to a barbarian prince. But at least
he was an open enemy. He would not, like his nephew Brutus, have
pretended to be Caesar's friend, that he might the more
conveniently drive a dagger into his side.
The rest of the party was broken up. Scipio sailed for Spain,
but was driven back by foul weather into Hippo, where he was taken
and killed. His correspondence was found and taken to Caesar, who
burnt it unread, as he had burnt Pompey's. The end of Juba and
Petreius had a wild splendor about it. They had fled together from
Thapsus to Zama, Juba's own principal city, and they were
refused admission. Disdaining to be taken prisoners, as they knew
they inevitably would be, they went to a country house in the
neighborhood belonging to the king. There, after a last sumptuous
banquet, they agreed to die like warriors by each other's hand.
Juba killed Petreius, and then ran upon his own sword.
So the actors in the drama were passing away. Domitius, Pompey,
Lentulus, Ligarius, Metellus Scipio, Afranius, Cato, Petreius, had
sunk into bloody graves. Labienus had escaped clear from the
battle; and knowing that if Caesar himself would pardon him
Caesar's army never would, he made his way to Spain, where one
last desperate hope remained. The mutinous legions of Cassius
Longinus had declared for the Senate. Some remnants of Pompey's
troops who had been dismissed after Lerida had been collected again
and joined them; and these, knowing, as Labienus knew, that they
had sinned beyond forgiveness, were prepared to fight to the last
and die at bay.
One memorable scene in the African campaign must not be
forgotten. While Caesar was in difficulty at Ruspinum, and was
impatiently waiting for his legions from Sicily, there arrived a
general officer of the 10th, named Caius Avienus, who had occupied
the whole of one of the transports with his personal servants,
horses, and other conveniences, and had not brought with him a
single soldier. Avienus had been already privately noted by Caesar
as having been connected with the mutiny in Campania. His own
habits in the field were simple in the extreme, and he hated to see
his officers self-indulgent. He used the opportunity to make an
example of him and of one or two others at the same time.
He called his tribunes and centurions together. "I could
wish," he said, "that certain persons would have
remembered for themselves parts of their past conduct which, though
I overlooked them, were known to me; I could wish they would have
atoned for these faults by special attention to their duties. As
they have not chosen to do this, I must make an example of them as
a warning to others.
"You, Caius Avienus, instigated soldiers in the service of
the State to mutiny against their commanders. You oppressed towns
which were under your charge. Forgetting your duty to the army and
to me, you filled a vessel with your own establishment which was
intended for the transport of troops; and at a difficult moment we
were thus left, through your means, without the men whom we needed.
For these causes, and as a mark of disgrace, I dismiss you from the
service, and I order you to leave Africa by the first ship which
sails.
"You, Aulus Fonteius [another tribune], have been a
seditious and a bad officer. I dismiss you also.
"You, Titus Salienus, Marcus Tiro, Caius Clusinas,
centurions, obtained your commissions by favor, not by merit. You
have shown want of courage in the field; your conduct otherwise has
been uniformly bad; you have encouraged a mutinous spirit in your
companies. You are unworthy to serve under my command. You are
dismissed, and will return to Italy."
The five offenders were sent under guard on board ship, each
noticeably being allowed a single slave to wait upon him, and so
were expelled from the country.
This remarkable picture of Caesar's method of enforcing
discipline is described by a person who was evidently present; 6 and it
may be taken as a correction to the vague stories of his severity
to these officers which are told by Dion Cassius.
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