# Cicero And The Fall Of The Roman Republic/Chapter 8

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CHAPTER VIII.
CICERO'S EXILE AND RETURN.
58-56 B.C.
LODIUS entered on his tribuneship on the 10th of December, and on the 1st of January 58 B.C. the consulship of Gabinius and Piso commenced. Cæsar was now proconsul of Gaul, but he delayed his departure and remained with his newly levied legions at the gates of Rome. Though both consuls were the servants of the triumvirs, they expected to be paid for their services. Clodius accordingly bargained to give them by decree of the People rich provinces and extraordinary allowances. Piso for instance received £80,000 under the title of table-furniture, though, as Cicero says, it would be more truly described as blood-money. Clodius next abolished the small fee which had hitherto been paid by the recipients of the public dole of corn, ​and effected certain constitutional changes with respect to the auspices and the censorship.
Having thus prepared the way, he brought in a bill "that any one who had put citizens to death without trial should be outlawed." Cicero was afterwards of opinion that he committed a fatal blunder in not expressing his approval of this decree, and taking his stand absolutely on the ground that Lentulus was not a citizen but an enemy. At the moment, however, he publicly recognised Clodius' proposal as directed against himself. He and his friends put on mourning and commended themselves to the people. The Roman Knights, always friendly to Cicero, stood by him on this occasion, and the Senate proclaimed its sympathies by a decree enjoining every member to lay aside the dress of his order as in times of public calamity. The consuls nullified this proceeding by an edict forbidding any senator to appear except in his proper robes. In the prevailing violence and disorder the tribunician protection, the proper remedy in such a case, was not available and the senators were obliged to submit. The Roman Knights were roughly handled by Clodius' mobs, and were insulted by the consul Gabinius, who further arbitrarily ordered out of the city one of their number, Ælius Lamia, because he had made himself conspicuous among Cicero's defenders.
Clodius commanded the streets with gangs of roughs whom he had enrolled under the pretence of founding "collegia," or street-guilds; these were only the advanced guard of his force; behind them ​were the triumvirs and Cæsar's army. After Cicero had been restored from exile by aid of the Three, he was obliged to speak with reserve of the part they had taken in banishing him. Nevertheless he indicates pretty clearly that Clodius was little more than their instrument. What disturbed him, he says, was Clodius' declaration "that his measures had the approval of these three and that he could command their help in carrying them through. Now one of these three had a powerful army in Italy; the other two, though private men, could raise an army if they chose; and this he said that they would do. He threatened me, not with the judgment of the People, not with any prosecution or trial or answer to the law, but with violence, with arms, with troops and generals and camps."
Cicero constantly complains of the "silence" of the Three when Clodius maintained that he was their agent, and indeed both their silence and their utterances left him no doubt that for once Clodius was telling the truth. Clodius held a meeting outside the gates that Cæsar might be present, and he publicly questioned the proconsul as to his opinion on the execution of Lentulus. Cæsar replied, "that in his judgment Cicero had acted illegally, but that he should prefer to let by-gones be by-gones and advised them not to persecute Cicero further." This reply, as it stood, was certainly hypocritical, for Cæsar could have stopped Clodius' action by raising his finger; but we may perhaps find a better excuse ​for him than that he merely wished to shirk responsibility. It is probable that now, as all along, Cæsar's action was determined solely by his desire to force Cicero to his side, that he looked on his exile as a mere temporary measure of policy, and was resolved to recall him so soon as he had humbled and frightened him sufficiently. In that case, he was wise in not committing himself to any public participation in his banishment, which would have made it more awkward for him to consent to his restoration. Meantime Clodius reaped all the fruits of Cæsar's support, and openly boasted that he would march Cæsar's army down on the Senate-house.
From Crassus Cicero expected no help; the two had never been friends. Young Publius indeed, the son of Crassus, was one of Cicero's warmest admirers and had put on mourning along with him; but he could not influence his father. Pompey shows very badly on this occasion. Almost to the last he had encouraged Cicero by his promises, and now in the hour of peril "suddenly he fell away from him." He studiously kept out of Cicero's way, and referred him to the consuls, whose help he pretended to desire; he would be only too glad to oppose force to the violence of Clodius, but he was a private man, and must really wait till he was summoned by the consuls. To the consuls accordingly Cicero turned. Gabinius rudely repulsed him. Piso affected some concern; "but," said he, "Gabinius is in difficulties; he is quite out at elbows; he is a ruined man unless ​
THE THREE COLUMNS OF THE TEMPLE OF CASTOR.
(Duruy.)
Meanwhile the day for the passing of Clodius' bill drew on. His new law about the auspices seems to have barred any attempt to invalidate the proceedings as those of Cæsar had been invalidated by Bibulus. The veto of Clodius' colleagues in the tribuneship could only be exercised personally, and if they interposed except under the protection of an armed force they were certain to be killed on the spot. Clodius did not content himself with the bludgeons of his newwly formed guilds, but occupied the temple of Castor in the Forum with armed men, removing the steps which led to the temple, so as to make it a veritable fortress. It became more clear that Cicero must either fly or else fight a pitched battle. He had on his side the Senate, the equestrian order, and the whole country population of Italy; but it would require time to collect and marshal these forces, whereas the gangs of Clodius were ready armed and organised. Even if the tribune were disposed of, Cicero would have still to deal with the consuls and with Cæsar, so that, ​as Clodius maliciously pointed out to him, he would either be knocked on the head once for all, or else have to win a battle twice over. Lucullus notwithstanding gave his voice for fighting, and Cato probably was of the same mind. Hortensius, on the other hand, strongly advised that Cicero should bow to the storm, and retire voluntarily from the city. The majority of the Nobles agreed with him, protesting that it would only be a matter of a few days, and that Cicero would soon be brought home in triumph.
Cicero made a final appeal to Pompey. In his despair he flung himself at his feet and begged him to redeem his promise; but Pompey did not even raise him from the ground and coldly replied that he could do nothing against Cæsar's wishes. Thus baulked of his last hope, Cicero removed from his house a consecrated image of Minerva bearing the inscription "The Guardian of the City," and deposited it as a pledge and memorial in 58 B.C., End of March.the temple of Jupiter on the Capitol; then with a heavy heart he departed from Rome.
The same day Clodius carried his bill. The opposition to his measures had now collapsed, and he might do what he pleased. After first paying the consuls their hire, he next carried a resolution ​directed against Cicero by name. This decree set orth, not that Cicero should be outlawed, but that he "had been outlawed" already by the terms of the general law. It further fixed a limit of space, 400 miles, within which this outlawry was to be operative; anyone who received or comforted the banished man within these limits was himself liable to proscription. By the same decree Cicero's goods were confiscated, and his house ordered to be razed to the ground. No time was lost in carrying out these last provisions; Clodius with his mob sacked and burned the house on the Palatine, seized all the property of Cicero on which he could lay hands, and threatened Terentia with legal proceedings on the charge that she was concealing some of her husband's goods.
Cæsar, who had remained at the gates until Cicero was driven from Rome, now swept northwards. In eight days he was on the banks of the Rhone; before the summer was out, he had annihilated the armed nation of the Helvetii and had driven the mighty hosts of the Germans back across the Rhine. After these two splendid victories, Cæsar withdrew his army, as he tells us, into winter-quarters "some what earlier than the usual season."
Before departing for his province, he had made ​arrangements for expelling from Rome the other statesman who shared with Cicero the honour of being feared by Cæsar as a leader of opposition. Cato was to be removed more gently than his comrade had been, but quite as effectually. Clodius had passed a law for the annexation of the kingdom of Cyprus, and the deposition of the Ptolemy who reigned there. This king was the brother of that Ptolemy Auletes who had purchased his recognition as King of Egypt from Cæsar (above p. 209) , and it was an act of cynical injustice thus to ruin the Cypriot ruler, whose title was just the same, as a punishment for not having bribed the triumvirs. Clodius had undertaken the business with all the more zest because the King of Cyprus had once refused to ransom him from the pirates. Clodius now passed a supplementary decree, commanding Cato by name to execute the deposition of Ptolemy. This order he did not venture to disobey. He wrote to Ptolemy promising to treat him with all consideration; but the unfortunate king put an end to his own life, and Cato was obliged to content himself with an ostentatious incorruptibility in administering his effects and paying the money realised into the Treasury. Meantime Cæsar's object was accomplished, and he wrote a letter to Clodius, congratulating him that he had got Cato out of the way for the rest of his tribunate, and had likewise shut his mouth for the future about extraordinary commissions. Cato did not come back to Rome for more than two years.
We must now turn to accompany Cicero on his ​melancholy journey. After wandering for a while in southern Italy, always in dread lest he should bring ruin on his hosts, he crossed over into Epirus from Brundisium on the last day of April. 58 B.C.He would have preferred Athens for his place of residence, but was afraid of Autronius and other exiled Catilinarians who infested Greece. Finally he resolved to avoid Greece altogether, and proceeded by the great northern road across Macedonia to Thessalonica, where he arrived on the of May. Here he was received with great kindness by Plancius the quæstor of the province, who afforded him ample protection and such consolation as was possible under the circumstances.
But consolation was the last thing of which Cicero would accept at this time. He was crushed in spirit by the blow which had fallen on him, and his letters are full of nothing but lamentation and self-reproach and upbraidings of his friends. His retirement, for which he could find abundance of excellent reasons a few months later, now appears to him an act of incredible folly and perverseness. Why had he not stayed and fought it out as Lucullus recommended? Why had Hortensius and the rest given him such treacherous advice? Why had they said that his absence would be an affair of a few days? Why had Atticus contented himself with tears for his misfortune, when he might have averted it by sager counsel? Why, when all was 1ost, had his friend restrained him from falling on his own sword, the only honourable resource? It will come to that in the end, he thinks, but the opportunity for dying with ​credit has been lost. He is convinced that never has there been such a fall as his; he measures it by all the height of his former position of honour and influence. He has brought ruin not only on himself but on his dear ones at home; he does not trust himself to meet his brother Quintus, now returning home from his province; they would both be too much unmanned. Throughout he despairs of any improvement in the situation, and turns a deaf ear to the hopes which his friends hold out to him.
Lessing in his famous treatise on the Laocoön has drawn an interesting contrast between the conventions of ancient and modern life with regard to the manifestations of pain and grief. The northern peoples of Europe have inherited notions of the dignity of stoical endurance, which, though far less thorough than those of some barbaric races, lead us to consider tears and lamentations as unworthy of a man. The Greeks and, to a certain extent, the Romans were more natural in their utterance of their feelings. Philoctetes can howl from the pain of his wound, and Achilles roll on the sand in the agony of his bereavement, without degradation or loss of sympathy. It is said that the modern Italians show something of the same unconventionality and absence of self-restraint.
In Cicero we find these characteristics carried an extreme. Stoical reserve is sadly wanting in him. The versatile intelligence, the susceptibility to impressions, the quick wit and the genial receptiveness, ​which give their charm to his writings as they doubtless did to his conversation, are compensated in the economy of nature by an equal sensitiveness to pain. There never was a man of less equable temperament than Cicero, nor one born more completely under the influence of the planet Mercury. In the stir of life and action he is alert and sanguine; when he is struck down by misfortune he becomes nerveless and depressed, and all that remains of his ingenuity is employed in devising fresh reasons for torturing himself. During times of prosperity he suns himself in the society of his friends, in the affection of his children, in the applause of his fellows, in the approval of his own judgment and conscience; whenever these fail him, the gloom of anxiety and disappointment closes around him, and he sets forth his grief and despair as frankly as he had set forth his self-satisfaction. Happiness and misery affect him with equal keenness, and his unrivalled powers of expression are employed in both cases to display to his friends, and, as fortune would have it, through them to future centuries, feelings which had better have been buried in his own breast. If we are inclined to think hardly of him, let us remember that these are, as the French say, "the defects of his qualities."
About the end of the year Cicero left Thessalonica for Epirus. He could hardly remain in Macedon; his friend Plancius' term of office was Dec., 58 B.C.out, and his enemy Piso was expected as the new governor. Besides the horizon had already begun to clear; Cicero could now afford to disregard ​the limits to which Clodius' law confined him, and was at liberty to approach close to Italy and await the restoration which was drawing nigh.
Clodius had become intolerable in Rome. "Like Cæsar himself," writes Mommsen, "Cæsar's ape kept governorships and other posts great and small on sale for the benefit of his fellow-citizens, and sold the sovereign rights of the State for the benefit of subject kings and cities." "What region," asks Cicero, "what district of any extent was there on the face of the earth, in which some principality was not set up? What king was there who did not recognise that it was time for him to buy what was another's right, or to pay black-mail for what was his own?"
Grown bold with impunity, Clodius at length ventured to cross the path of Pompey himself. He May, 58 B.C.accepted money from the King of Armenia to procure the release of his son, who had been brought to Rome as a hostage, and in pursuance of his bargain carried off the young prince from the custody in which Pompey had placed him. When Pompey tried to oppose force by force, Clodius not only defeated him in the streets, but attempted his life by means of an assassin. Pompey was obliged to barricade himself in his own house for the remainder of Clodius' year of office.
The departure of Cæsar's army and the estrangement of Pompey left the Romans more free to June, 58 B.C.express their real feelings as to Cicero's banishment. Though not one of Clodius' colleagues had dared to interpose his veto ​at the critical moment, Ninnius, as early as the 1st of June brought the question of Cicero's recall before the Senate, and elicited an unanimous resolution in favour of it; in October, eight of the tribunes not only consulted the Senate but proposed a bill to the People. These measures were inoperative except as a demonstration, for they were vetoed by Clodius and his single adherent among the tribunes. The consular elections in the summer resulted in favour of Lentulus Spinther and Metellus Nepos, the same who, as tribune, had forbidden Cicero to speak to the people when he went out of office at the end of the year 63 (see above p. 161). He now announced that he would forget his old feud, and not oppose any measures in Cicero's favour. His colleague declared himself from the first Cicero's friend, and almost all the tribunes-elect were on the same side. Amongst them were Titus Annius Milo, and Publius Sestius. Sestius before the end of the year undertook Autumn, 58 B.C.a journey into Gaul to beg the acquiescence of Cæsar. As early as August Cicero had mentioned in a letter some information received from Varro which seemed to indicate that Cæsar showed signs of relenting. Nevertheless Sestius' overtures were at first unsuccessful, and some delay was thus caused; for Pompey could hardly permit Cicero to return without first gaining Cæsar's consent. At length his objections were removed, apparently by negotiations with Quintus ​Cicero, who gave certain pledges on his brother's account to the triumvirs, and Cæsar now expressed his approval of the measures which Pompey wished to adopt (see below p. 266).
The proceedings of Clodius in the last months of his tribuneship were like the tricks of a mischievous monkey. His quarrel with Pompey implied a breach in his alliance with Gabinius; accordingly he set his gangs upon him, wounded his attendants, and broke up his consular fasces. Then he put up an altar of incense and, standing before it with veiled head, consecrated all the goods of the consul to the temple of Ceres; as at a solemn sacrifice, a flute-player piped the accompaniment to the traditional words of banning. One of his colleagues mimicked the ceremony and consecrated Clodius' goods under the same form. Clodius next turned upon Cæsar. He convened an assembly in the Forum and summoned Bibulus and the college of augurs to attend. He put the question to Bibulus, whether he had not observed lightning on each occasion when Cæsar carried his laws? He elicited a response from the augurs that such an observation invalidated the proceedings. "In that case," summed up this impartial judge, "it appears that Cæsar's official acts, including my adoption, are null and void. Let them all be set aside by a decree of the Senate. Cicero is the preserver of Rome, and I will bring him home again on my own shoulders."
The first act of Lentulus Spinther as consul was to bring the question of Cicero's recall again before ​the Senate, and the matter was fully discussed on the first of January, 57 B.C. Lucius Aurelius Cotta, the first senator who was asked his opinion, protested that no legislation was required; the whole of the proceedings against Cicero, he argued, were null and void; he had merely yielded to violence, and now he should be simply invited to resume his place in the State. Pompey, who came next, while agreeing with much that Cotta said, recommended that for the avoidance of all scruples a bill should be proposed annulling the former decree and expressly restoring all Cicero's rights. This view (which was Cicero's own) met with the approval of the Senate. Though some delays occurred through Jan., 57 B.C.the opposition of a single tribune, a decree was actually brought before the people on the 24th of January.
But Clodius, though no longer tribune, was still master of the streets. His gangs were reinforced by some gladiators whom he was training, and with these he made an armed attack on the supporters of the bill. A regular battle was fought; the Forum had to be swabbed with sponges to clear away the blood, and corpses were tossed into the river or choked the sewers; Quintus Cicero barely escaped with his life; the day ended with the victory of Clodius and the bill was not carried. On another day the tribune Sestius was assailed with equal violence; he was left for dead on the ground, but none of his wounds proved mortal. Milo attempted ​to bring Clodius to justice, but found his family connections too powerful. He then resolved to meet Clodius with his own weapons and himself hired a band of gladiators; many of Cicero's friends seem to have contributed to bear the expense. The two champions fought out their quarrel much in the fashion of the Montagues and Capulets, and neither could drive his adversary from the field. It was sufficient however for Milo to hold Clodius in check, and so soon as he accomplished this, the public feeling in favor of Cicero's recall bore down all other obstacles. Meanwhile the Senate refused to transact any other business until this measure was carried through, and it passed decrees commending Cicero's safety to the protection of all magistrates in the provinces, and giving thanks to those communities which had sheltered and comforted him.
At length after months of obstruction the bill was again introduced. The Senate, combining the advice of Cotta and of Pompey, now issued a proclamation that all who desired the salvation of the State should come to Rome to vote in Cicero's cause, and at the same time they decreed that, in case the vote should be delayed for more than five lawful days, they invited Cicero to return as a citizen under no legal condemnation or disability. On the strength of this invitation Cicero crossed over into Italy and landed at Brundisium on the 5th of Aug., 57 B.C.August. Here the whole population of the town went forth to greet his landing, and ​with them his daughter Tullia, who had come thus far to meet her father. By a happy coincidence the day was the anniversary of the foundation of the town and was likewise Tullia's birthday.
Three days later Cicero received the news that the bill had actually passed on the 4th of August. Every circumstance served to heighten his triumph. The immense crowds of citizens from the country, who had flocked to Rome and now assembled on the Campus Martius to proclaim their good-will to Cicero, afforded a striking contrast to the handful of roughs and slaves whose assent had given the form of law to his banishment. The assembly was by centuries, the most solemn and august fashion for the utterance of the popular voice; the bill was introduced by both the consuls; Pompey himself urged its acceptance and delivered a panegyric on Cicero; men of rank and position not only appeared to give their votes, but were proud to discharge in person the subordinate functions of distributing the ballots and counting the votes. Clodius was present and was permitted to say what he had to say against the proposal; but the feeling of the assembled multitude was practically unanimous, and every century voted in the affirmative. So far as the unwieldy forms of a mass-meeting permit a real expression of the will of the majority, this was a truly representative assembly, and this decree stands almost alone in the latter ​days of the Republic, as having received not only the formal but the real assent of the Roman people. Cicero's journey homeward was a triumphal progress. Along the way he was stopped by deputations sent from all parts of Italy to congratulate him. When he reached the gates he found that every one with the least pretence to be a notable person in Rome had come forth to greet him; even Crassus was there, and none stayed behind except those whose hostility had been too notorious for them to be able to pretend to join in the welcome. As Cicero advanced he found the steps of the temples occupied from top to bottom by enthusiastic crowds, whose plaudits accompanied him through the densely thronged Forum and up to the Capitol, whither he went to offer thanks to the gods for his safe return.
One thing was wanting to complete Cicero's restoration. The site of his house on the Palatine had been consecrated by Clodius, and a shrine of Liberty erected thereon. It was doubtful therefore whether it could again be applied to secular uses. The question was referred to the college of pontiffs, and their unanimous vote declared the consecration to be null and void. Cicero's house was rebuilt on the old site at the public expense.
Cicero was pleased to find that he was still regarded as the unquestioned leader of the bar. The applications of clients the instant he returned to Rome sufficiently convinced him of this. The ​devotion of all loyal citizens in his cause seems even to have alarmed him, as likely to rekindle the jealousy from which he had suffered so much. He now shakes off all the despondency of his exile, and can look forward with a light heart. "I feel," he writes to Atticus, "as if I was starting at the commencement of a new life."
The enthusiasm displayed by the Romans was partly due to sympathy with Cicero himself, partly it was a manifestation of disgust at the reign of lawlessness and rascality which had been the first-fruits of Cæsar's attack on the constitution. With the return of Cicero, men began to hope that this most discreditable page in the national history was turned down once for all. They did not perceive how seriously the fabric of the constitution had been shaken, nor how imminent was the danger to those republican institutions which they still cherished as their most precious birthright. In real truth it would have taxed the utmost resources of statesmanship now to find a solution. Whether the triumvirate held together, or whether it dissolved, the issue was likely to be equally disastrous to the survival of the free State. Cicero's "new life" began in a world which admitted only of counsels of despair.
Three days after his return we find Cicero once more handling affairs of State. The Senate was called to suggest remedies for a dearth, which caused much discontent, and Cicero moved that Pompey should be invested with proconsular power for five years, and should exercise control over the corn-supply of ​the whole world. The motion was carried, and the consuls immediately embodied the resolution in a bill which received the assent of the people. The proposal of this honorable charge for Pompey was in accordance with the general policy which Cicero had pursued since his first entry on public life; it was likewise a graceful act of recognition of Pompey's services in procuring his recall from exile. It seems however, to have given offence to the leaders of the optimate party—"The consulars," Cicero writes, "take their cue from Favonius and express dissatisfaction." Clodius availed himself of their resentment when Cicero pleaded before the pontiffs for the restoration of his house, and Cicero found himself obliged to defend his action at length, and to deprecate any prejudice which it might occasion in the minds of his judges.
But that which the Optimates thought too much for Pompey was much less than what Pompey himself desired. His real wishes were revealed by a counter-proposal of the tribune Messius, which would have given to the Commissioner of the corn-supply the disposal of the Treasury, an army, a fleet, and a power in every province superior to that of the actual governor. Public opinion was not yet ripe for so thorough a measure. Even if the Republicans had accepted it, we may doubt whether Cæsar would have acquiesced, and whether the effect would not rather have been to hurry on the civil war. This risk, however, might well have been faced. Cæsar's army was not as yet fashioned to that perfect ​efficiency which it afterwards attained, and though even now the Republicans would have found it difficult to hold Italy, they might have made a fight for it in the East with far better chances than when they tried the fortune of war six years later. At this eleventh hour the sole chance for the Republic was to place itself unreservedly in Pompey's hands, and to trust that the loyalty which he had shown at the end of the Mithridatic war would still be the guiding principle of his conduct.
This was the more to be hoped, because Pompey's subsequent defection from honour and duty had borne him bitter fruits. He had expected to use Cæsar as his instrument, and now his eyes were opened to the fact that Cæsar was fast becoming his master. Two years of splendid victories had half revealed to the world the supreme military genius. Cæsar's army was devoted, not to any party or principle, but solely to its incomparable chief. He had made himself a position independent of his confederate and could conquer and govern at will throughout his vast province, while a tribune or two in his pay at home served to secure his interests in the central government. Pompey meanwhile was sorely perplexed in his new position. He had little capacity and little inclination for guiding the turbulent politics of the capital. His main object now was to secure himself some military force and some base of operations independent of Cæsar. But here he was met by constant difficulties; he was checked alike by his own best feelings, and by the memory of his past defection. On the one hand the Optimates ​wished that he should divorce Julia; but Pompey steadily refused to sacrifice the tender and beautiful woman, whose love both for her husband and for her father bound them together by a tie more honourable than that of political expediency. On the other hand, Pompey bore, and not unjustly, the odium which resulted from the lawless acts of Cæsar's consulship, and he was still compelled to play the part of figure-head in a Cabinet in which the decisive word lay no longer with him. The constitutional party had now some excuse for refusing to trust him.
Pompey was still further hampered by his own reserve and mystery and dread of committing himself. These bad habits had by long indulgence now completely gained the mastery over him. It is pitiful to see how a man, honest and well-meaning at bottom, earned the reputation of insincerity and double-dealing, merely because he was afraid to speak his mind. No one now relied on him. Cicero expresses this distrust in an amusing way to Atticus a few months later. "He had a long conversation with me on politics, and was by no means satisfied with his position—so he said (for that is as much as one can vouch for in case of Pompey): he did not care for Syria, and thought nothing of Spain—add, if you please, 'so he said.' I think indeed that whenever we speak of him we may append the tag, 'so he said,' like the refrain of 'thus saith Phocylides' in the epigrams."
​On this question of the corn-supply, while pressing the more thorough-going proposal of Messius by means of his friends and adherents, he affected to prefer that of Cicero. This hesitancy destroyed the last chance of Messius' success. "The bill," writes Cicero, "which the consuls brought forward on my recommendation, now appears moderate, and this of Messius not to be borne." Pompey accepted the commission with its restricted powers, and this opportunity was lost to the Republic.
Pompey's hopes were next directed towards Egypt. King Ptolemy, "the Piper," had been forcibly expelled by his subjects not long after Cæsar had obtained his recognition by Rome. As the triumvirs had sold him his throne for a great sum, he naturally expected them to guarantee him quiet possession of his purchase. He sent envoys to Rome, requesting that he might be restored and that Pompey might be authorised to re-instate him. This commission would have given Pompey just what he wanted—a fleet, an army, and a base of operations. It will be recollected that some years before (in 65 and again in 63) Cæsar and Crassus had looked to Egypt as the place where they might build up a power against that of Pompey. Now the positions are reversed; Cæsar is the man in possession of military force, and Pompey would fain counterbalance that force by establishing himself in Egypt.
But here again the Nobles could not recognise the fact, which seems to us so obvious, that Cæsar was the really dangerous man, and that the only chance of resisting him was to make Pompey strong enough ​to be independent of him. Their alarms were still directed to Pompey; he was to them still what a "scatterbrained young man" had nick-named him during Cæsar's consulship, "The Dictator without office." The majority then of the Senate resolved in their wisdom that Pompey was not to be trusted with an army, and accordingly, on the pretext of a Sibylline oracle, unearthed for the occasion, they passed a decree that the King of Egypt must not be restored by military force. Even with this restriction they were unwilling that Pompey should be allowed to meddle with Egypt; and, indeed, there were numerous rival candidates for so lucrative a commission. While Pompey's adherents urged his claims, Pompey himself affected to approve of Cicero's exertions on behalf of his benefactor Lentulus Spinther, who after his consulship had become governor of Cilicia and Cyprus. Cicero writes to Lentulus that "when he hears Pompey speak, he acquits him of any hankering after the job," but that his action is so inconsistent that he cannot penetrate his real wishes. "You know," he adds, "how slow the man is, and how incapable of speaking out." The time was wasted in endless wrangles, and nothing could be settled in the Senate. Ptolemy remained an exile till the next year (55 B.C.) when Gabinius, the governor of Syria, without any authorisation from the home government, restored him to his throne.
​So far then the Nobles had thwarted all Pompey's efforts. Their dislike to him was curiously evinced by their attitude towards Clodius at this period. Clodius had indeed done much to outrage the feelings of the Optimates; but, after all, he was one of themselves, a Noble of the bluest blood, and they were disposed to put up with many eccentricities from such a one. The principal sufferer had been Cicero, and the wrongs of a "new man" did not rouse much sympathy in their minds. Besides, Cicero had been restored, and what more did he want? True, Clodius had appeared with his mob, and driven off the masons who were rebuilding Cicero's house; he had attacked Cicero himself with stones and swords, as he was proceeding (happily with a sufficient escort) along the Sacred Way, and he had succeeded in setting fire to the house of Quintus. But the Ciceros might look after themselves; men who had risen from the middle class had no business to stand on their dignity. The Nobles then petted and encouraged Clodius, who was always ready to show sport by insulting and annoying Pompey. They had baffled all Milo's efforts, as tribune, to bring him to trial, and now (in the year 56) Clodius was ædile, and could in turn arraign Milo before the People. When a namesake and creature of their favourite, Sextus Clodius, was tried before a jury for complicity in his patron's lawless proceedings, a majority among the non-senatorial jurors was for a verdict of "Guilty," but the senators' votes turned the scale, and procured an acquittal.
​Cicero was naturally indignant at all this. In a speech, delivered in the Senate early in this year, 56 B.C.he upbraids the Nobles with the folly and indecency of their conduct. "I am not surprised at Clodius; he does after his kind. But I am astonished at those men of sense and character, first, that they listen so readily when they hear a great citizen and a noble servant of the commonwealth traduced by the tongue of a scoundrel; next, that they hold a doctrine most contrary to their own interests, that the glory and dignity of any man are at the mercy of the insults of a rascal, bankrupt in fortune and reputation; lastly, that they do not appreciate, though I fancy they must have some suspicion of it, that these same wild and whirling words may one day be directed against themselves. . . Can we believe it that worthy citizens have brooked to gather to their bosoms and hold as their darling this fanged and deadly adder? With what bait did he catch them? 'We wish,' they say, 'that there should be some one to speak against Pompey, and to cast reproach on Pompey.' What! does Clodius cast reproach on Pompey by abusing him? I hope that great man, to whom I owe so much, will take what I say in the spirit in which it is meant; at any rate, I will speak my mind. To me, I protest, it seems that some reproach was cast on his noble and honoured name; but it was on the occasion when Clodius praised him to the skies."
The situation was yet further complicated by ​dissensions between Pompey and Crassus. There never was much love lost between the two, and though Cæsar had brought them together, their true feelings manifested themselves now that Cæsar's presence was withdrawn. We find Pompey complaining to Cicero in February, 56, "that plots were being laid against his life; that money was being supplied by Crassus to Clodius and to Clodius' associate, Caius Cato, and that Curio, Bibulus, and others of his old opponents were likewise backing up the pair." In order to protect himself, Pompey was obliged to enroll a band of roughs, whom he imported from his native Picenum.
Meanwhile Clodius did not have it all his own way in the streets. Cicero's escort showed fight on the occasion when Clodius set upon him in the "Via Sacra." They retired into a friend's portico, and beat back their assailants from thence. At one moment Clodius' life was at their mercy, but Cicero would not give the word. "I am weary," he writes, "of heroic surgery, and am trying to starve out the disease." Milo was less scrupulous. Nov., 57 B.C."I think," says Cicero in the same letter, "that Publius will be brought to trial by Milo, unless he is killed first. If he puts himself in Milo's road during a riot, Milo will certainly do it; he is quite resolved and announces it openly; he has no fear of failing as I did, for he puts his trust in no one but himself."
​Clodius had no luck when he tried to carry the war of prosecutions at law into the enemy's camp. His accusation of Milo before the people came to nothing, and a charge of rioting which he brought before a jury against Sestius, whom we have seen as tribune exerting himself to procure Cicero's restoration, led to a signal triumph for Clodius' opponents. The occasion brought Cicero at once to Feb. 14, 56 B.C.the front. "Sestius was unwell," he writes to his brother; "I went straight to his house, and placed myself, as I was bound to do, entirely at his disposal. This, however, was more than people expected of me, for they thought that I had good reasons for being vexed with Sestius. So both he and the public consider that I have behaved like a kind friend and a grateful man, and I mean to act up to the character."
Cicero nobly redeemed this pledge, and his speech for Sestius remains as an admirable specimen of forensic oratory applied to a State trial. The story of Sestius' tribunate, of his labours crowned at last with success in Cicero's cause, and of the desperate lawlessness, with which he had to contend, is set forth with every grace of language and Mar. 11, 56 B.C.every force of argument. The jury responded readily to Cicero's appeal, and Sestius was acquitted by an absolutely unanimous vote.
Among the witnesses for the prosecution in this case was Publius Vatinius, the same who as tribune, in 59 B.C., had passed the law which gave Cæsar his command in Gaul. Cicero availed himself of the ​curious practice of the Roman law-courts, to direct against Vatinius a speech of fierce invective under the form of questions in his cross-examination. "In defending our surly-tempered friend," he writes immediately afterwards, "I gave him his due, full measure and running over; and, as he particularly wished it, I turned upon Vatinius who was an avowedly hostile witness. I cut into him at my leisure to the satisfaction of heaven and earth. . . The end of it was that Vatinius, impudent and reckless as he is, retired quite baffled and crestfallen."
Cicero's speech against Vatinius is not pleasant reading. The invective, which rises to dignity when aimed at great antagonists, like Catiline and Antony, sinks to vulgar abuse when directed against underlings, such as Vatinius, Piso, and Gabinius. The account which Cicero, in his confidential letter to his brother, gives of the effectiveness of the speech is undoubtedly true; but we can only wonder at the fact. It must be remembered, however, that the Romans tolerated and expected a roundness of invective, which is much at variance with the greater decorum of modern habits of speech. One reason for the difference probably is, that our notions of what is proper and gentlemanlike are an inheritance from days when the practice of duelling compelled every one to be punctilious both about the language he used and the language of which he must take notice. Now, nothing like the duel had existed in the civic communities of the ancient world, and so ​the point of honour was not liable to be touched in the controversies of society or of politics. To a Roman, abuse was mere words and wind, carrying no responsibility with it; neither did the man who uttered it suffer from loss of dignity, nor was the object of it under any obligation to clear his character.
Notwithstanding its sins against good taste, the speech against Vatinius has an interest of its own as illustrating Cicero's attitude towards Cæsar. He could hardly attack Cæsar's jackal without approaching dangerously near to the proconsul himself. When he inveighs against Vatinius for carrying laws in defiance of the auspices, do not his words reflect on Vatinius' master? Cicero will not allow his victim to associate his cause with that of Cæsar—"and that not only for the sake of the commonwealth, but for the sake of Cæsar, lest a stain from your despicable vileness should seem to rest on his worthy name. . . Suppose that Cæsar did break out into some excesses; that the strain of conflict, his ambitious aspirations, his pre-eminent genius, his exalted birth, did hurry him into acts, to which we could submit at the time from such a man, and which should now be blotted from our minds by his glorious services meanwhile; do you, rascal, dare to presume on the same forbearance? and shall we give ear to the voice of Vatinius, the pirate and the temple-robber, when he demands that the same privilege shall be extended to him as to Cæsar? "
This argument was really sound, as regarded the past. Cæsar as consul had done fearful mischief to ​Rome, but the Romans might well condone it in consideration of the splendid deeds of the proconsul. The doubt arose when men looked to the future. Cæsar had shown himself utterly unscrupulous; he had trampled on all law and constitution. Could such a man be trusted with power? Would not the acquiescence in Cæsar's supremacy mean the servitude of the commonwealth? These anxieties, though but dimly felt, certainly affected the minds both of Cicero and Pompey at this time. Both of them were uneasy, and inclined to enter on lines of policy, likely to bring them into collision with Cæsar.
The relations of political parties were unsettled, and the position of Pompey in particular was doubtful and anxious. Towards the end of March, 56 B.C.March Cicero writes to his brother: "Pompey is not what he was; the mob are cool towards him on Milo's account, and the loyalists find much wanting and much to blame. My only objection to Marcellinus" (consul or the year) "is that he handles Pompey too severely. The Senate however is pleased to see it, and this makes me the more inclined to absent myself from the House, and maintain an attitude of reserve. In the law-courts I am all that I ever was, and my levée is as thronged as in my best days."
In spite of all drawbacks, Cicero was at this time very confident in his own strength. He writes to Quintus: "In other respects my position is what ​you used to declare it would be, though I could never believe it, full of honour and influence; these have been restored to me, my dear brother, and with me to yourself, by your patience, your courage, your devotion, and your affection." The acquittal of Sestius confirmed him in this opinion. The tide of public feeling, which had borne him in triumph home, seemed still to be setting steadily in his favour. He thought himself able to take a stronger line in politics; and now, as before his exile, his main object was to draw Pompey over to the side of the constitution. He had marked Pompey's distrust of Cæsar, and he seems to have believed that the confederacy between them was fast breaking up. At any rate he was satisfied that Pompey would see without displeasure an assault on the Julian legislation, and Cicero resolved to deliver that assault in person.
The point selected for attack was the vexed question of the public lands in Campania. It seems that Pompey's veterans had been provided for elsewhere, on lands acquired by purchase, and that this Campanian land was destined for distribution among the poor citizens. Thus Pompey's interests were not directly involved in upholding Cæsar's law. At the end of the year 57, one of the tribunes, a supporter of Pompey, had mentioned the matter in a tentative way, and now on the 5th of April 5, 56 B.C.April Cicero brought it again to the notice of the Senate "which was as uproarious," he says, "as if it had been a public meeting." On ​Cicero's motion, it was resolved that the question should be submitted formally to the House by the consuls on the Ides of May. This was, as he afterwards said to Lentulus, "to attack the enemy in the very heart of his position."
Pompey showed no displeasure. On the 8th of April Cicero writes to his brother, then acting as Pompey's legate in Sardinia: "Yesterday I dined with Crassipes, and after dinner was carried in a litter to Pompey's garden. I had failed to catch him earlier in the day, as he was from home, and I wished to see him, because I was leaving Rome the next day, and he was bound for Sardinia. I found him at home, and begged him to let you come back as soon as possible. 'You shall have him immediately,' he replied. He was leaving, as he said on the 11th to embark either from Labro or from Pisa." Evidently Cicero told the truth to Lentulus two years later, when he said that Pompey left Rome without giving him a hint that he was offended by his line of action. But a bitter disappointment was in store. The events of the next few days completely altered the situation, and left Cicero in a painful and humiliating position.
* ↑ In Pison., 35, 86.
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 17, 40.
* ↑ Dio Cassius, xxxviii., 17; Plutarch Cic., 30, 4.
* ↑ "Subita defectio Pompeii," Ad Q.F.., i., 4, 4.
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 18, 41.
* ↑ In Pisonem, 6, 12.
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 19, 43.
* ↑ Dio Cassius (xxxviii., 17, 4) and Plutarch (Cato Minor, 35, 1) assert the contrary, but their authority is not sufficient to outweigh Cicero's words (Ad Att., iii., 15, 2) expressly exonerating Cato from the blame which he heaps on Hortensius. See also Ad Fam., xv., 4, 12.
* ↑ Ad Att., x., 4, 3.
* ↑ Cicero, (Pro Domo, 18, 47) speaks of the perfect tense as a monstrous blunder, but it was probably correct. The second decree is a declaratory act, which proceeds on the assumption that Cicero was hit by the terms of the first law and that he has acknowledged his guilt by retiring into exile. There is a close parallel in Livy, xxvi., 3, 12. "Postquam dies comitloram aderat, Cn. Fulvius exulatum Tarquinios abiit. Id ei justum exilium esse scivit plebs."
* ↑ Pro Domo, 9, 22.
* ↑ See Adolphus Trollope's Beppo the Conscript, ch. 7 (the Bad Number).
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 30, 66.
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 31, 68; and 32, 69.
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 33, 71.
* ↑ Ad Att., iii., 15, 3.
* ↑ Pro Domo, 15, 40.
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 34.
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 35, 75. seq.
* ↑ Pro Sestio, 60, 128, and Pro Domo, 32, 85.
* ↑ Pro Domo, 28, 73.
* ↑ Ad Att., iv., 1, 4.
* ↑ Clodius accused Cicero (Ad Att., iv., 1, 6, and Pro Domo, 6, 14) of having made corn dear, apparently on the ground that the number of strangers who had come to vote for him had eaten up the supplies.
* ↑ Ad Att., iv., 1, 5.
* ↑ De Har. Resp., 6, 12.
* ↑ Ad Att., iv., 1, 8.
* ↑ Ad Att., iv., 1, 7.
* ↑ Pro Domo, ch. 2-9.
* ↑ Plutarch, Pomp., 49, 3.
* ↑ Ad Att., iv., 9, 1.
* ↑ This tag was used both by Phocylides and Demodocus. The following epigram (it is doubtful to which of the two it belongs) will serve as an example: Καὶ τόδε Φωχυλίδου Μιλῄσιοι ωξύνετοι μὲν Οὶχεισίν δρῶσινδ οίάπερ ὰὲύνετοι.
* ↑ Ad Att., iv., 1, 7.
* ↑ This "adolescens nullius consilii," as Cicero (Ad Q. F., i., 2, 15) called him, was Caius Cato, a person whom we must take care not to confuse with his great namesake Marcus.
* ↑ Ad Fam., i., 5, b. 2.
* ↑ De har. Resp., 24, 50.
* ↑ Ad Q. F., ii., 3, 4.
* ↑ Ad Att., iv., 3, 3.
* ↑ Ad Att., iv., 3, 5.
* ↑ Ad Q. F., ii., 3, 5.
* ↑ Ad Q. F., ii., 4, 1.
* ↑ In Vat., 6, 15.
* ↑ Ad Q. F., ii., 4, 5. The reference to the letters to Quintus is always to the corrected arrangement as given in Wesenberg's Teubner Edition.
* ↑ Ad Q. F., ii., 3, 7.
* ↑ See above p. 219.
* ↑ Suetonius, Jul., 20.
* ↑ Ad Q. F., ii., 1, 1.
* ↑ Ad Q. F., ii., 5, 1.
* ↑ Ad Fam., i., 9, 8.
* ↑ Ad Q. F., ii., 5, 3.
* ↑ Ad Fam., i., 9, 9.