Caesar: Life of a Colossus

by Adrian Goldsworthy

  Pompey had two main objectives in these years. The first was to secure grants of land to the discharged veterans of his armies. In 70 Bc a law had been passed to provide for the men who had fought under him in Spain, but had failed to achieve much as the Senate had not provided the resources to make an adequate distribution of land possible. His second aim was to secure the ratification of his Eastern Settlement, the scheme of laws and regulations that he had established after his victory over Mithridates. It was normal for such things to be done by a senatorial committee, but Pompey had gone ahead without this authority. The fact that he had done the job extremely well did not prevent considerable criticism. Lucullus, who had been forced to wait years for his own triumph and was still deeply bitter of his replacement in the command by Pompey, came out of his self-imposed retirement from public life to oppose him. He was especially critical of anything that had altered his own rulings. Pompey wanted his entire Eastern Settlement to be ratified in a single law. Lucullus, Cato and many other leading senators demanded instead that each individual ruling be discussed and dealt with on its own. During Piso's consulship in 61 Bc nothing was achieved, in part because of his preoccupation with the trial of Clodius. Realising that Metellus Celer was practically certain to win the consulship for 60 BC, Pompey indulged in massive bribery to ensure that he was given a more amenable colleague. The man chosen was another of his former legates, a `new man' called Lucius Afranius. Although he may have been a capable officer, Afranius was better known as a dancer than for his skill as a politician. As consul he proved an abject failure, his fellow `new man' Cicero viewing him as little more than a joke in the poorest taste. More talented was Lucius Flavius, one of the tribunes of the year who was eager to do Pompey's bidding. He proposed a land law, which was intended to provide farms for the veterans and a substantial number of the urban poor. Metellus Celer led the opposition, and was so bitter in his invective that the tribune ordered him led off to prison. The consul was a shrewd enough player of the political game to know how to exploit the situation and promptly convened a meeting of the Senate in the prison itself. Flavius responded by placing his tribunician bench of office in front of the entrance to stop anyone from getting in. Undaunted, Metellus ordered his attendants to knock a hole in the prison's wall to admit the senators. Pompey realised that Flavius was losing the contest and instructed him to release the consul. The episode showed the same almost farcical respect for convention as the confrontation between Cato and Nepos in 62 BC on the podium of the Temple of Castor and Pollux. In this case, things stopped short of actual violence. Further attempts to intimidate Metellus by denying him the right to go to a province failed and the bill was eventually dropped.'

  After two years Pompey had achieved neither of his key objectives. The confirmation of the Eastern Settlement and the provision of land for veteran soldiers were both sensible measures, that would have been of benefit to the Republic. Metellus opposed the land bill primarily because he resented doing anything for the man who had divorced his half-sister Mucia, but also because of the prestige of standing alone and out of his innate stubbornness. His grandfather had won fame through being the only senator to refuse to take an oath to obey one of Saturninus' laws, suffering a period of exile as a result. Lucullus was motivated by memory of the wrong he felt that Pompey had once done to him in 66 BC. Cato and others were more inclined to thwart Pompey as a means of cutting him down to size and preventing him from dominating the Republic through his great wealth and fame. Pompey was not the only senator to feel frustration in these years. Crassus, who had at first enjoyed his rival's discomfort, found that many of the same senatorial clique were as willing to block a measure of great importance to him. Early in 60 Bc a dispute erupted between the Senate and the equestrians who headed the great companies of the publicani. These had bought the rights to collecting taxes in Asia and the other eastern provinces only to discover that in the aftermath of so many years of warfare they were unable to raise sufficient revenue to cover the sum they had pledged to the State Treasury. Faced with the prospect of making a loss, rather than the usual handsome profit derived from tax collecting, the dismayed publicani wanted to renegotiate the terms of their contract, reducing the amount that was due to the Treasury. Crassus, who was closely associated with the leading publicani and probably had a stake in a number of companies, was an enthusiastic supporter. Cicero thought that the demand was outrageous, but nevertheless was willing to go along with it since the wealthy equestrian order ought to be placated and kept on the side of the Senate. A new bribery law had just imposed severe fines on equestrian as well as senatorial jurors, causing deep offence amongst the order. Cato was never one to restrain his own outrage and vigorously opposed the publicani, persuading the Senate to reject their appeal. Cicero despairingly commented that Cato `in the best spirit and with unquestionable honesty ... does harm to the State: the resolutions he puts forward are more fitting for Plato's ideal Republic, than the cess-pit of Romulus'.'°

  Pompey and Crassus, the two wealthiest and in some ways most influential men in the Republic, were both finding themselves thwarted by members of the handful of noble families that dominated the Senate. Pompey, in particular, had been rejected when he attempted to become part of this inner elite. Necessary, sensible and popular reforms, along with more questionable measures that may have been politically expedient, were all being blocked by a small minority of aristocrats. The inertia at the heart of the Republic was alienating many citizens at all levels of society. Decades later, one of Caesar's former commanders would begin his history of the Civil War in the year when Metellus Celer and Afranius were consuls. With hindsight many would see 60 Bc as the year when the disease infecting the Republic became terminal. Il

  COMING HOME

  In the summer of 60 BC Caesar returned from Spain. He was forty and - presumably with the same dispensation he had enjoyed to hold earlier offices two years before the normal time - now eligible to stand for the consulship for 59 BC. He had clearly been preparing the way for his candidature for some time. Unable to canvass in person he seems to have written to leading senators, including Cicero. Caesar was a prolific letter writer, making it all the more unfortunate that so little of his correspondence has been preserved. He is said to have been able to dictate to several scribes at the same time, while it was noted that he was the first man who while in Rome regularly wrote to friends and political allies who were also in the city. It may well be that he had divorced Pompeia in a written note. It was probably also by letter that he reached an agreement with another of the candidates to run a joint campaign. This was Lucius Lucceius, a man of considerable wealth but little reputation or charisma. The combination of his money and Caesar's popularity was a strong one. In early June 60 BC, before he had even reached Rome, Caesar was seen as the favourite in the race for the consulship, Cicero commenting that he had a `following wind'. Caesar's letters to Cicero had evidently pleased the orator, for he wrote to Atticus that he hoped to `make Caesar better', which he saw as a good service to the Republic. 12

  Caesar, just like Pompey two years before, arrived outside Rome, but could not cross the pomerium until he had celebrated the triumph awarded for his campaigns in Spain. A triumph, with its spectacular procession and accompanying celebrations, would further enhance his election prospects. The Roman electorate and society in general admired military glory above almost everything else, and in practical terms a consul was very likely to find himself placed in command of an important war, so that proof of martial talent was obviously a good thing. Cicero at times liked to claim that a great record as an advocate in the courts was almost as highly valued as martial exploits, but evidently knew in his heart that this was not the view of most voters. However, by law, candidates for office had to present themselves in person at a meeting in the Forum. It took time to prepare properly for the triumphal celebration, which could then only be held on a day allotted by the Senate. The date for the election had already been set, and Caesar wo
uld be unable to stand unless he crossed the pomerium and so gave up the right to his triumph. He requested an exemption to the rule to allow him to become a candidate without appearing in person. Presumably this was done by a letter to the Senate, or through an intermediary, since there is no record of the Senate convening at one of the temples outside the pomerium to permit him to attend. Suetonius tells us that there was widespread opposition to this petition. Our other sources unsurprisingly single out Cato as the main focus of this. He once again used the tactic of simply continuing to speak until time for the debate ran out and the meeting had to close without voting on the issue. The Senate would not assemble again until after the list of candidates had been formally announced - the House was only permitted to meet on certain days and could not, for instance, convene on the same day as any of the Popular Assemblies. Cato's tactic of `talking out' a proposition had worked in the past and this time ensured that Caesar could not celebrate his triumph and stand for the consulship for the next year.13

  Cato's filibuster worked, but not in the way that he had intended. When Caesar realised what was happening he immediately gave up his triumph and entered the city, crossing the pomerium so that he could present himself as a candidate. It is difficult to understate the importance of this decision. A triumph was one of the greatest honours a Roman aristocrat could win, something permanently commemorated by the display of its symbols on the porch of his house. Pompey, whose whole career had been deeply unorthodox, had triumphed three times, but this was exceptional, and in this period it was very rare for a man to win the honour more than once. Not only that, but triumphs were awarded to no more than a tiny minority of propraetors in the first century BC and were fairly rare even for proconsuls. It was the clearest indication that Caesar was looking ahead, absolutely convinced that far greater deeds and opportunities lay ahead of him. A triumph for his victories in Spain would have been very welcome and he did his best to secure it, but the consulship was a far greater prize.

  Cato's motives are also worth consideration, for at first glance his action seems to have been pointless, while with hindsight it was also highly illjudged. At best he would have delayed Caesar's candidature for a year. Caesar would have held his triumph, which could only have increased his already good electoral prospects. Perhaps Cato hoped that during the next twelve months, Caesar's debts would finally overwhelm him and his career implode. Yet he had just returned from his province and, like all Roman governors and especially those who fought a successful war, had doubtless profited. His debts were too huge to have been paid off, and Caesar obviously felt the need for Lucceius' finances in his election campaign, but all in all he must have been in a more secure financial position on his return to Rome compared with when he had left. As a private citizen Caesar would be open to prosecution, so perhaps it was hoped that he might be charged in the extortion court. Yet, most former governors faced with such charges were acquitted and, as we have seen, Caesar may well genuinely not have been guilty - not that that was necessarily the key factor in many legal cases. There was a more personal reason for delaying Caesar's candidature for a year. Cato's son-in-law, Marcus Calpurnius Bibulus, was also standing for the consulship. This was the man who had been so overshadowed by Caesar during their aedileship in 65 BC. Bibulus' talents were modest, and made to seem all the more so by comparison with the flamboyant and extremely capable Caesar. Yet the system, with the minimum ages for each office, ensured that a man was likely to compete and hold office with the same men throughout his career. Both Caesar and Bibulus had been praetors in 62 BC, although there is no record of any conflict between them. Postponing Caesar's bid for the consulship would mean that for once Bibulus would have a chance of taking the limelight himself. It also avoided the danger that the `new man' Lucceius, boosted by his ally's popularity, would actually beat Bibulus into third place. Losing an election was a humiliating blow to a member of a noble family.

  Therefore, there were certainly advantages to be gained for Cato's family in blocking Caesar's request. The conflict between their personalities should also not be ignored. It is no exaggeration to say that Cato loathed Caesar, believing that he had seen past his outward charm. Servilia's continuing affair with this man exacerbated her half-brother's feelings. The Roman aristocracy saw nothing wrong in senators pursuing personal hatreds, as long as their actions did not become excessive. Viewed in this light, Cato was simply taking an opportunity to do one of his enemies a bad turn. Furthermore, every time that he changed the Senate's mind or stopped it from doing something added to Cato's reputation. He was still only thirtyfive and had held no magistracy higher than the tribunate, but was already well established as one of the dominant voices in the Senate. This was because he was Cato, paragon of old-fashioned virtue as exemplified by his famous ancestor, and never to be dissuaded from his views or afraid to state them even if they were contrary to the mood of the majority. It does seem unlikely that in 60 Bc he represented Caesar as a danger to the Republic. Cicero's letters make it clear that such a view was not widespread before the elections. The only hint that there was some suspicion came when the Senate allocated the provinces that the consuls of 59 BC would receive after their year of office, something that a law of Caius Gracchus had stipulated that they must do before the election. In this case the Senate decided that both men would be sent to deal with `woodland and country lanes of Italy' (silvae callesque). It was true that rural Italy had suffered much in recent decades, but even so such a task was pitifully beneath the dignity of one, let alone both, consuls. The suggestion that this was intended merely to keep the consuls in reserve, in case a major war erupted in Gaul, is unconvincing, since this was not normal Roman practice. Instead it was an insult and, the sources maintain, one aimed at Caesar, although it should be noted that Bibulus was as likely to suffer as a result of it.14

  Consuls were elected by the Comitia Centuriata, whose structure differed markedly from the Tribal Assemblies. Caesar had already been successful in the Comitia when he was elected praetor, but competition was inevitably stronger for the two consulships than for the eight praetorships for each year. Consular elections were usually held at the end of July, so that Caesar had only a few weeks to canvass in person. The Comitia Centuriata met on the Campus Martins, amidst rituals that had strong associations with the military system of Rome's early history - for instance, the raising of a red flag on the Janiculum Hill already mentioned in connection with the trial of Rabirius (see p.123). The presiding magistrate, one of the consuls of the current year, also gave his instructions to the Assembly in a traditional form, which made them sound much like military orders. First there was an informal meeting or contio before proceedings began, although it is not known specifically whether or not the candidates were given the chance to make a speech as one last plea to the electorate. The consul would open the business with a prayer, followed by a set formula that ordered the people to choose the two new consuls. The voters were divided into centuries based upon their property as recorded in the last census. Individual centuries were composed of men from the same tribes, but only to this extent was there a tribal element. Voting began with the seventy centuries of the First Class, followed by the eighteen equestrian centuries. Each century chose two names from the list of candidates to fill the two vacancies for consul. There were 193 centuries altogether, and the outcome of elections could be, and often was, decided during the voting of the Second Class. Members of the First Class, had to have significant property, although just how much is unclear for this period. It would be a mistake to see all of them as very wealthy. Some were almost as well off as equestrians, but others had relatively modest means. There is no real trace of the members of this class having a strong sense of their corporate identity or forming a social class in the modern sense. The decision of the centuries voting first influenced subsequent voting, since there seems often to have been an urge to choose the men who were expected to win. Especially influential was the decision of one century from the Firs
t Class chosen by lot to speak first. This was the centuria praerogativa, and it was generally believed that the man whose name was placed first in the vote of this century was bound to win the election."

  Like other elections, the voting of the Comitia Centuriata took place in the saepta or `sheep-pens' on the Campus Martius. Sometimes known also as the oviles, this temporary structure of wooden enclosures for each of the voting units was open to the elements and covered a wide area. We do not know how many citizens normally chose to participate. Over 900,000 male citizens were listed in the census, and at least several hundred thousand of these lived in Rome itself, at least for some parts of the year. Yet it seems extremely unlikely that the majority even of these residents could all have voted even if they had wanted to, given the size of the saepta. Estimates have been made of the number of voters who could have been accommodated within the voting enclosures, usually modified by entirely conjectural notions of how long the voting would have taken, for the whole process had to be complete by sunset. These vary from as many as 70,000, to 55,000, or as few as 30,000. Each commentator has tended to suggest that these are maximum figures and that the real numbers would usually have been much lower. Although it would be unwise to place any real reliance on such guesswork, it is safe to assume that only a minority of those eligible actually did vote. Yet it is hard to say whether it was always substantially the same voters who did assemble - this tends to be assumed, but we really do not know A consular election was certainly a great event, and significant numbers of citizens deliberately travelled to Rome from all over Italy to take part. Inevitably these tended to be the better off, but since the wishes of the equestrian order and First Class carried such weight this made them all the more important. It is very clear that election results were unpredictable and that it was exceptionally rare for there to be two candidates for the consulship both of whom were seen as certainties. The praerogativa century was selected by lot on the day of the election, adding an additional element of uncertainty to proceedings.16