Caesar

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by Adrian Goldsworthy


  The ending of a marriage was important for the individuals concerned, but the scale of the shock that this episode sent through the Republic should not be underestimated. Never before had the Bona Dea festival been polluted in this way. Some senators, Cicero and Caesar amongst them, were privately sceptical about the gods, or at least many aspects of traditional religion, but publicly none doubted the importance of the rituals that pervaded so many aspects of public life. Rome’s success was said to be based on the favour of the gods, and no ceremony necessary to continue to assure this blessing could be seen to be neglected or improperly performed. The Senate established a special commission to investigate the affair and decide what action needed to be taken. The festival itself was restaged on another night and properly conducted. After seeking advice from the Vestals and the college of pontiffs, it was decided to place Clodius on trial. Caesar seems from the beginning to have wished to brush the whole affair under the carpet, but although head of the college, the Pontifex Maximus had more of a chairman’s than a controlling role. In the subsequent tribunal he declined to give evidence against Clodius, claiming ignorance of the whole affair. When publicly challenged as to why he had divorced his wife if he thought that she had not been caught in an adulterous liaison, he replied with the famous phrase that he had done so because ‘Caesar’s wife must be above suspicion.’ Clodius was an up and coming man, with powerful friends, who were doing their best to ensure that the court would exonerate him. Caesar may have felt that it was an unnecessary risk to gain the personal enmity of such a man, or perhaps he even felt that Clodius might be a useful ally in the future. With hindsight we know that this is what in fact happened, but it may not have been so obvious at the time. For all his frequent prosecutions and attacks on men like Catulus, Caesar’s whole career was based on trying to win friends rather than destroy enemies. It was for his favours and generosity that he was famous, unlike Cato who was known more for his unflinching severity–he was one of those pressing for strong punishment of Clodius.

  Political concerns were never far from a senator’s mind, but we should not forget the personal element. Throughout much of history, being held up as a cuckold has been deeply embarrassing. It would also have been most unlike a Roman defence counsel not to have thrown Caesar’s own philandering reputation against him had he appeared as a witness in the case. Perhaps he genuinely felt that it would have been hypocritical of him to attack another man for something that he had so often done himself, if in less bizarre and sacrilegious circumstances. However, in spite of his own reluctance, both Aurelia and Julia appeared as witnesses, testifying to Clodius’ guilt. Cicero also appeared, stating that he had met Clodius on the day of the ceremony in Rome, hence destroying the defendant’s claim that he had been far from the City at the time when the offence was committed. In spite of his obvious guilt, Clodius was acquitted after he and his friends mounted a concerted campaign of intimidation and bribery. For the final session the jurors requested and were granted guards for their protection. When they voted thirty-one to twenty-five for acquittal, it prompted the scornful Catulus to say, ‘Why did you ask us for a guard? Were you afraid of being robbed?’ It is the last anecdote recorded about the old senator, who died not long afterwards.31

  SPAIN

  Long before the trial was over, Caesar had left Rome as propraetor to govern Further Spain (Hispania Ulterior). Smuggled out in his entourage was the Numidian client he had unsuccessfully defended against King Hiempsal, who for months had remained concealed in Caesar’s house. Also accompanying him were his quaestor Vetus, the son of the man for whom Caesar had performed the same role. Another member of his staff, holding the title of praefectus fabrum, a sort of general staff appointment, was a Lucius Cornelius Balbus, a Spaniard from a well–to–do family that had gained citizenship through Pompey’s gratitude. The new governor had doubtless left the city and the scandal behind with some relief, but at one point it had looked as if Caesar would be prevented from going. A number of his creditors had become impatient, perhaps simply because payment was due, but his temporary expulsion from the praetorship earlier in the year may have made them question his long-term prospects. Moves were made to prevent his leaving, but Caesar turned to Crassus who stood surety for 830 talents, a massive sum but only a fraction of his total debt. This is the first occasion when it is explicitly recorded in our sources that he had taken out a loan from Crassus, but it is more than probable that Caesar had often drawn on his massive wealth in the past. Even so it was a near thing, and he ended up leaving the city before the Senate had formally announced the provinces for the year. This was a mere formality, since these had already been allocated, but it was a breach of convention. Ironically, one of the first problems he had to deal with when he reached Spain was widespread debt, which may have been forcing many to swell the numbers of bandits that infested the region. Caesar decreed that a debtor should pay two-thirds of his income to his creditors until the debts had been made up, but were to be left the remaining third to support themselves and their families.32

  A provincial posting was a chance for enrichment. Caesar had on a number of occasions prosecuted returning governors for corruption and extortion. It was soon claimed by his senatorial opponents that he had needlessly provoked a war in Spain, even attacking allied communities simply so that he could plunder them. The charges were fairly conventional, and plenty of Roman governors acted in this way, but there is not enough evidence to decide whether or not Caesar was guilty of such behaviour. In 61 BC large tracts of Spain were still showing the scars of the war against Sertorius. Raiding and banditry had for generations been ways of life in the Iberian Peninsula, especially amongst communities in the more mountainous regions who struggled to support themselves by farming. North Western Lusitania, where Caesar principally operated, was not a wealthy region at this time, and it is doubtful that any commander could have made himself rich through plunder by campaigning there. Nor is it likely that he lacked opportunities for mounting a military operation, for all of our sources emphasise the lawlessness of much of the area. What is clear is that Caesar eagerly took up these opportunities, responding in an extremely robust manner. Almost as soon as he arrived he raised ten new cohorts of troops, augmenting the existing garrison by 50 per cent. Marching into the mountainous area between the rivers Tagus and Duero, he summoned one of the fortified hilltop communities to surrender and be resettled on the plains. They refused, as he had expected, so Caesar took the place by storm. He then moved against the neighbouring towns, avoiding an attempted ambush when the Lusitanians tried to lure him into a trap by using their herds as bait. Caesar ignored these and instead attacked and defeated their main army Ambush was a common tactic for the hill peoples of Spain, and his forces avoided another ambush by not following the obvious route through the difficult country. Later Caesar returned, fought on ground of his own choosing, and won. Following up his success, he pursued the Lusitanians to the Atlantic coast, where they took refuge on a small island. The first attempt to take this failed, but Caesar summoned warships from Gades (Cadiz) and forced the defenders to surrender. He then sailed along the coast, and the sight of his forces-oared warships were largely unknown in the area–was enough to overawe at least one community into instant capitulation.33

  There were many traces of the Caesar so familiar from his own Commentaries on the later campaigns in Gaul and the Civil War. Swift but calculated action, refusal to be daunted by natural obstacles or initial reverses and the ruthless exploitation of success. Also there was the willingness to accept surrender and treat the conquered generously in the hope of turning them into productive, tax-paying members of the province. His victory had not in itself completed this process, but did mark an important stage in it. Caesar was hailed as Imperator, the formal acclamation which entitled a governor to request a triumph on his return to Rome. Yet his term of office was not solely devoted to war, and he did much to reorganise the civil administration of the province, arbitrating in dispute
s between the local communities. He also appears to have suppressed the practice of human sacrifice in some of the local cults. How effective he was in the long term is harder to say, for other governors of the province had acted against this in the past. Such offerings were known-perhaps even fairly common-throughout much of Iron Age Europe and elsewhere. The last occasion the Romans had made such an offering had been only a few years before Caesar’s birth, when the threat of the Cimbri and Teutones had seemed very real. It was, however, one of the few religious practices that the Romans actively suppressed in the provinces. Caesar’s governorship of Spain is not well documented, but seems to have been marked by his usual frenetic activity. He probably profited from his time there, though certainly on nothing like the scale to do much more than dent his massive debts, won accolades from the locals and had the prospect of triumph on his return. This posting had given Caesar what he wanted, but he was always looking to the future, and left his province to return to Rome before his successor had actually arrived. This was a little unusual, but certainly not unique–Cicero would do the same when he finally went out to his province over a decade after being consul. His quaestor was probably left in charge.34

  On the way out to Spain Plutarch claims that Caesar and his party passed through a small Alpine village. His friends jokingly asked whether even in such a squalid setting men still scrabbled for power and office. Caesar declared quite seriously that he would rather be the foremost man in a place like that, than the second in Rome. The story may or may be apocryphal, but as Plutarch realised it says much about Caesar’s character. He had already done well politically, and could by now almost count on having a good career. This was no less that he had always expected of himself, but being successful was not in itself enough and Caesar was aiming for the very top. He craved to achieve more than anyone else had ever done.35

  There was room at the top, for as the decade drew to a close only Crassus could be seen as a serious rival to Pompey Some of the wealthiest men in the Republic, notably Lucullus, had largely withdrawn from public life into luxurious retirement. The Senate of these years contained some 600 members, but was scarcely crammed with talent. The legacy of the civil war, which had culled the ranks of the prominent and capable, was still very obvious. It is striking that only fourteen former consuls were present at the Catilinarian debate, an occasion of such importance that a strong turnout would be anticipated. Crassus deliberately avoided the meeting, while Pompey and several other consulars were away on campaign. Assuming as a very rough guide that a man might expect to live for at least twenty years after being consul, the total is still less than half the number that we might expect. Compared to earlier periods, there were far fewer distinguished senators whose auctoritas allowed them to guide the Senate’s debates. This was one reason why men like Caesar and Cato were able to assume such prominence while still in their thirties.

  VIII

  CONSUL

  ‘Caesar had accustomed himself to great effort and little rest; to concentrate on his friends’ business at the expense of his own, and never to neglect anything which was worth doing as a favour. He craved great imperium, an army, and a new war so that he could show his talent.’–Sallust, late forties BC.1

  ‘Yet what would history say of me in six hundred years time? For that is a thing which I fear more than the idle chatter of men alive today’–Cicero, April 59 BC2.

  On 28 and 29 September 61 BC Pompey the Great celebrated his third triumph, which commemorated his victories over the pirates and Mithridates. The festivities coincided with his forty-fifth birthday and included displays and processions of unprecedented scale and magnificence. His first triumph had been twenty years before, but this time there was no ridiculous plan for riding in a chariot pulled by elephants. Pompey was older, more mature and had no need for such theatrics, for the splendour of his victories dwarfed the achievements of the great generals of the past. Even so, triumphs were never occasions for restraint or modesty Like any Roman aristocrat, Pompey took care to quantify his success and the processions included placards declaring that he had killed, captured or defeated 12,183,000 people, taken or sunk 846 warships, and accepted the surrender of 1,538 towns or fortified places. Each kingdom, people or place he had overcome was listed in turn on the great floats carrying the spoils he had taken from them. Then there were paintings showing famous episodes from the wars. Other signs told of how every soldier in the army had been given 1,500 denarii-equivalent to more than ten years’ pay–and proclaimed that the vast sum of 20,000 talents of gold and silver had been added to the State Treasury Pompey boasted that as a result of his efforts, the annual revenue of the Republic had more than doubled, from 50 million to 135 million denarii. At the end of the procession was an enormous float presented as a trophy of victory over the known world. People were saying that Pompey had triumphed over all three continents: Africa as part of his first triumph, Europe and specifically Spain in his second, and now Asia in his third. Ahead of Pompey walked over 300 senior hostages, including kings, queens, princesses, chieftains and generals, all wearing their national costume. The general himself rode in a chariot decorated with gemstones and wore a cloak captured from Mithridates, which he claimed had once been owned and worn by Alexander the Great. Appian, writing over a century and a half later, thought this unlikely, but Pompey revelled in the parallels often drawn between himself and the greatest conqueror in history.3

  There is no doubting the scale of Pompey’s achievement. The suppression of the pirates had been a dazzling display of meticulous planning and rapid action, but proved to be merely a prelude to even greater successes. Mithridates of Pontus had proven one of Rome’s most resilient enemies. Sulla had expelled him from Greece and recovered the province of Asia, but the need to return to Italy had prevented him from achieving total victory Lucullus had done more in the seven years he held command in the region, savaging the king and his allies in a series of battles. In the process he became fabulously rich from the spoils of war, but alienated the publicani operating in Asia as tax collectors, as well as many of his own soldiers. A successful general never lacked for opponents in the Senate, for senators were instinctively nervous of anyone else gaining too much glory, wealth and auctoritas. There were growing complaints that the war was going on too long, and even that Lucullus was deliberately prolonging it to enrich himself still more. His large province was broken up, and sections given to new governors, starving him of the men and material with which to wage war. With Lucullus weakened, Mithridates was given a chance to win back some of the ground he had lost. Everything changed when Pompey arrived in 66 BC. Backed by resources on a scale of which his predecessor could only have dreamed, he had irrevocably smashed the king’s power by the end of the year. It would be going a little far to say that Lucullus had already won the war-unlike the Slave War, which had certainly been decided by Crassus before Pompey arrived and tried to steal the credit–but he had certainly contributed a great deal to the eventual Roman victory

  His assigned task complete, Pompey showed no desire to go back to Rome straightaway, but instead sought new opportunities to win glory with the forces under his command. Over the next two years he took advantage of any opportunity to lead his legions further than any Roman army had gone in the past. They marched against the Iberians and Albanians, round the eastern shore of the Black Sea and into what would become southern Russia. Intervening in a civil war between rival members of the Judaean royal family, Pompey laid siege to Jerusalem and took it after three months. All of these spectacular achievements were celebrated in his triumphal procession. Pompey had throughout these campaigns given abundant evidence of his abilities as a commander, and may also, as in earlier campaigns, have occasionally led charges in person, emulating Alexander’s heroic style of leadership. In Jerusalem he and his commanders had gone into the Holy of Holies in the Great Temple, something forbidden to all save the high priests. As a mark of respect, none of the treasures were removed, but the gesture, as was
intended, provided a new tale to tell at Rome of the unprecedented deeds of Rome’s great general. For the Romans, the spectacular was often combined with the practical, and Pompey spent much of his time organising the administration of Rome’s old provinces in the region and the new ones he had created. Active campaigning largely ceased when news arrived in 63 BC that Mithridates was dead-killed by a bodyguard after he had tried to poison himself but discovered that the antidotes he had taken throughout his life rendered him immune. Even so Pompey remained in the east for over a year settling the region. His organisational talents were considerable and many of the regulations he established would remain in force for centuries.4

  The wild activities of Metellus Nepos during his tribunate increased the apprehension over what Pompey would do on his return to Italy. Nepos was his brother-in-law, had served under him as a legate, and so his readiness to use violence and intimidation in his effort to allow Pompey to retain command of his army was deeply worrying. Crassus is said to have exploited the mood by taking his family abroad. It is difficult to know how far Nepos had been acting under instructions, but clearly Pompey cannot have been pleased with a result that raised many senators’ suspicion of him without achieving any benefit. In the spring of 62 BC he wrote to the Senate as a whole and privately to leading senators assuring them of his desire for peaceful retirement. Another of his legates, Marcus Pupius Piso, was already in Rome canvassing for the consulship for 61 BC. Pompey asked the Senate to postpone the elections till the end of the year so that he could be present and support his friend. Opinions were divided, but Cato prevented any vote by manipulating the procedure of the House. When asked his opinion in the debate, he kept on talking until the day ended and the meeting closed without a result. No one attempted to discuss the issue again. In the event Piso won the consulship anyway, but this was the first of a series of snubs that Pompey was to suffer. It did not prevent him from continuing his efforts to reassure the Senate of his good intentions. When he finally landed at Brundisium in December 62 BC he immediately demobilised his legions, instructing the soldiers to gather again only when it was time for them to march in his triumph.5

 

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