CRISTO RAUL.ORG

READING HALL

THE DOORS OF WISDOM

OCTAVIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS :

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE FOUNDER OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE

CHATER IV

THE CONSULSHIP AND TRIUMVIRATE

The campaign of Mutina, in which Octavian had now embarked, was ended by two battles—one at Forum Gallorum on the 15th, and another at Antony’s camp on the 21st of April. After the latter date there were military movements of some interest and importance, but no actual conflict. Before these battles Octavian’s position had been difficult and delicate; and though it was much improved after them, it was not in the way expected by the Senate. The change was due to his own prudence and energy. Since his start from Alba to follow Antony the aspect of affairs at Rome had been much modified, and he had had good reason to doubt the favour of the party over whom Cicero was now exercising a predominant influence. Cicero appears indeed to have kept up a constant correspondence with Octavian, in which he did his best by flattery and argument to retain his aid and lull his suspicions. But there were facts which it must have been difficult for him to explain to Octavian’s satisfaction. It is true that besides the honours voted to him in the Senate in the first week of BC43, he had been joined with the other magistrate in the Senatus-consultum ultimum, empowering them to “see that the state took no harm.” But though the decrees also gave him a constitutional right to command soldiers, yet the despatch of the two consuls to the seat of war deprived him of the chief command; while the more moderate party had carried over Cicero’s head a resolution to send three commissioners to negotiate with Antony. Cicero asserts that they were only authorised to convey to Antony the Senate’s order that he was to quit the Gallic province. That was not, however, the view of the commissioners themselves. One of them—Serv. Sulpicius Rufus—died on the journey; but the other two—L. Calpurnius Piso and L. Marcius Philippus—brought back some proposals from Antony in February, which, had they been accepted, might perhaps have secured the safety of Brutus and Cassius, but would certainly have left Octavian out in the cold, without any pretext for keeping up his military force,

Antony proposed to give up the Cisalpine province, on condition of receiving Transalpine Gaul—exclusive of Narbonensis—with the six legions already under him, supplemented by those at present commanded by Dec. Brutus, for five years, or for such time as Brutus and Cassius should be consuls or proconsuls. Secondly, on condition that the acta of his consulship—including the use of the money from the temple of Ops and his grants of lands—should be left intact; and that those serving with him should have complete indemnity.   The envoys were against the extreme measure of declaring a state of war (rather than a tumultus) and proclaiming Antony a hostis and the majority of the Senate agreed with them and voted for further negotiations. It was a strange position. Octavian had been authorised by the Senate to drive Antony from Cisalpine Gaul. One of the consuls—Aulus Hirtius—had left Rome with two legions, and had, in fact, come into contact with the enemy in a cavalry skirmish at Claterna; the other consul, Pansa, was also preparing to follow. Yet the Senate was negotiating with Antony as though he were not a hostis, but a citizen with a grievance. The time was soon to come when Octavian, too, would find it convenient to make terms with Antony; but nothing could have been more against his interests than the present action of the Senate. It would seem to him a cynical disregard of their mutual obligations. Nor was this the worst. Antony’s offer as to Brutus and Cassius was only an offer to recognise an accomplished fact. These two leaders in the assassination had been already nominated by the Senate to Macedonia and Syria. Cicero was in constant correspondence with them, addressing them as the chief hope of the constitution, and suggesting that their armies might be used to maintain the hold of the party on Italy. Trebonius, moreover, had been sent to Asia with the express understanding that he was to fortify that province and collect money to support Brutus and Cassius. When news came that Trebonius had been put to death by Dolabella, the latter was declared a hostis by the Senate, and his punishment entrusted to Cassius.

These facts must have gradually made it quite clear to Octavian that the complete triumph of the Ciceronian party would be no less damaging to him than that of Antony. But though skilful use was made of them by Antony himself in a letter addressed to Hirtius and Octavian, the young Caesar was not to be induced to take any premature step. The Senate might be dealt with hereafter; for the present the first necessity was to prevent Antony from becoming strong enough to dictate terms to himself as well as to the Senate. He therefore quietly continued to take his part in the campaign.

The Senatorial armies commanded the district round Mutina, except Bononia, Regium Lepidi, and Parma. Of these towns, the first was twenty-three miles east of Mutina along the Aemilian road; the other two about the same distance west of it. They were in the hands of Antony, affording him bases of operation on either side of Mutina. In the middle of February Cicero was daily expecting to hear of Dec. Brutus ending the war by a sally from Mutina. At that time Antony’s headquarters were at Bononia, only a part of his troops actually investing Mutina. Hirtius was at Claterna, eleven miles east of Bononia; Octavian at Forum Cornelii (Imola), nine miles farther east. Bad weather had prevented serious operations, but some time in March Antony evacuated Bononia to push on the siege of Mutina with his full force. Hirtius and Octavian at once occupied Bononia, and gradually pushed out fortified posts towards Mutina; for Dec. Brutus was hard pressed for food, and they feared that he would have to surrender. But not being on an equality with Antony, especially in cavalry, they were anxious to wait for the fresh legions from Rome under Pansa. Some minor skirmishes took place from time to time, but as the days dragged on and Mutina was not relieved, the anxiety at Rome grew greater and greater. “I am restlessly waiting for news”, writes Cicero on the 11th of April; “the decisive hour is upon us; for our whole hope depends on relieving Dec. Brutus.” On the 15th and 16th there was a panic in the city caused by the praetor Vestidius Bassus. He had enrolled two legions of veterans, and was believed, to be about to enter Rome. He, however, marched off to Potentia to watch the result of the struggle in Gallia Cisalpina; and a few days later came the news of the victory of Forum Gallorum, which changed this unreasonable panic into an exultation almost as unreasonable.

Pansa was expected to reach the seat of war about the 16th of April. A detachment, consisting of the Martia and two praetorian cohorts, was sent out to conduct him and his four new legions into camp. In order to intercept this force Antony concealed two legions in Forum Gallorum, only allowing his cavalry and light armed to be seen. On the 14th Pansa encamped near Bononia, and next morning started to join Hirtius in his camp near Mutina, along with the troops sent out to meet him. The main force marched over the open country; the two praetorian cohorts kept to the via Aemilia. Near Forum Gallorum there was some marshy and difficult ground. The Martia got through this first, and suddenly sighted Antony’s cavalry. The men could not be held back: enraged at the recollection of their comrades executed at Brundisium (Brindisi), they broke into a charge. Pansa, unable to stop them, tried to bring up two new legions to their support. But Antony was too quick for him. He suddenly led out his legions from the village, and Pansa, in danger of being surrounded, had to retire upon his camp of the previous night, having himself received two wounds, while the praetorian cohorts on the Aemilian road were cut to pieces. Antony seemed to have won the day. But he attempted too much. Het pushed on towards Bononia, hoping to storm the camp, but was beaten off and forced to retire to his own quarters near Mutina. He was, however, many hours’ march from them. His men were tired, and when they reached Forum Gallorum again they were met by Hirtius, who, having heard of Pansa’s disaster, had come out with twenty veteran cohorts. Antony’s wearied men were utterly routed almost on the ground of their morning’s victory, and he had to escape with his cavalry to his camp near Mutina, which he did not reach till long after sunset. Hirtius had no cavalry to pursue him, and accordingly went on to visit the wounded Pansa.

Though the praetorian cohorts which had suffered so severely on the road were Octavian’s, he was not leading them, nor does he seem to have been engaged in either of the battles. But it appears that some of Antony’s men had threatened the camp in charge of which he had been left, and that his success in repelling this attack was sufficiently marked for his soldiers to greet him with the title of Imperator as well as Hirtius and Pansa.

The news of this victory reached Rome on the 20th, and the extravagant exultation of the Ciceronians may be gathered from the Fourteenth Philippic. But Antony was still investing Mutina, and though he had lost heavily, so also had his opponents, especially the Martia and Octavian’s praetorian cohorts. Pansa, disabled by his wounds, had been carried to Bononia, and for some days nothing of importance was attempted. But on the 21st Hirtius and Octavian moved to the west of Mutina, where the lines of investment were less complete, with the hope, of relieving the town on that side. Antony sent out his cavalry to intercept them, and, after some skirmishing, two legions to support it. Octavian attacked and drove them back to their camp, into which Hirtius forced his way, but was killed within the vallum. Octavian got possession of the body, but had presently to evacuate the camp. Still Antony’s losses in these two battles had been so severe that he feared being himself invested by Octavian, who would in that case, he felt sure, be joined by Lepidus and Plancus. Whatever might then be the fate of Decimus Brutus, he at any rate would be paralysed. He resolved to make a dash for the Transalpine province, hoping there to be joined not only by Pollio, Lepidus, and Plancus, but by Ventidius also. He accordingly raised the siege, and with a strong body of cavalry marched along the via Aemilia. At Dertona he left the road, and made the difficult pass of Aquae Statiellas, leading to the coast at Vada Sabatia. There he was joined by Ventidius and proceeded along the Riviera into the province. Decimus Brutus did not start in pursuit till the third day, partly owing to the exhausted state of his men after their long investment, partly because he wished to induce Octavian to join him.

The news of Antony’s retirement reached Rome on the 26th. The exultant Ciceronians regarded the war as at an end, and next day, under Cicero’s influence, Antony and his adherents were declared hostes in the Senate. He was believed to be utterly ruined^, and the Senate was regarded as once more supreme. Decimus Brutus would of course cut to pieces the poor remains of Antony’s troops; Lepidus and Plancus would hold their provinces in obedience to the Senate. Octavian was no longer necessary, and was immediately made to feel it. Not only were scandalous rumours spread abroad, charging him with causing the death of Hirtius, and suborning his physician to poison the wounds of Pansa, but in the vote of thanks to the army no mention was made of him. The vote also was so framed as ta introduce divisions in the army itself by naming certain cohorts for honour and passing over others; while the legates conveying these thanks and honours were instructed to communicate directly with the men, not through Octavian as their commander. The legions of Pansa were transferred to Decimus Brutus, even the Martia and Quarts, formerly commended for joining Octavian. At the same time, all those most likely to be hostile to him were promoted. Sext. Pompeius was declared head of the naval forces of the republic; Brutus and Cassius were confirmed in their provinces and given special powers in all other provinces east of the Adriatic; a commission of ten was appointed to revise the acta of Antony’s consulship, in which Octavian had no place. Lastly, his claim to a triumph and to be a candidate for one of the vacant consulships was rejected, though as a kind of sop he was granted consularia ornamenta, and Cicero appears to have proposed his having an ovation. But it was about the same time that Cicero’s unlucky epigram as to “distinguishing and extinguishing” him was reported to Octavian. If Cicero, who was in constant correspondence with him, and was even discussing the possibilities of their holding the consulship as colleagues, could thus speak, what was he to think of the rest? No doubt all these circumstances contributed to fix Octavian’s resolve. He at once declined to co-operate with Decimus Brutus, or to surrender his legions to him. Although those under Hirtius and Pansa had been assigned bodily by the Senate to Brutus, the Martia and Quarta refused to obey the order, and declared their loyalty to Octavian. Their example was followed by the other veterans, who refused to serve under an assassin of their old imperator. Thus fortified, Octavian adopted a line of conduct which partly alarmed and partly puzzled the other commanders of troops. He established secret communications with Antony, releasing prisoners taken from his army, and allowing certain officers to rejoin him; while he himself, remaining inactive for some months, was privately preparing to enforce his claim on the consulship. The departure of Decimus Brutus left him in undisturbed command of the greater part of Cisalpine Gaul, and there were no military forces between him and Rome, now that Ventidius had accomplished his rapid march from Potentia to the western coast at Vada.

The gradual disillusionment of the Ciceronians as to the victory over Antony; the perplexity caused by the inactivity of Octavian; the delays and helplessness of Decimus Brutus—all these are faithfully reflected in the Cicero correspondence of this period. At first everything is couleur-de-rose. On the 21st of April, on the receipt of the news of the battle of Forum Gallorum, he writes:—

“In the youthful Caesar there is a wonderful natural strain of virtue. Pray heaven we may govern him in the flush of honours and popularity as easily as we have held him up to this time! This is certainly, a more difficult thing, but nevertheless I have no mistrust. For the young man has been convinced, and chiefly by my arguments, that our safety is his work, and that, at any rate, if he had not diverted Antony from the city, all would have been lost.”

On the 27th (after hearing of the fight at the camp) he thinks Octavian is with Decimus Brutus in pursuit of Antony or, as he says, “of the remnant of the enemy.”

But presently he is informed that Octavian is not thus acting, or serving the interests of the Senate. Decimus Brutus writes from Dertona on the 5th of May :—

“If Caesar had hearkened to me and crossed the Apennines, I should have reduced Antony ta such straits that he would have been ruined by failure of provisions rather than the sword. But neither can anyone control Caesar, nor can Caesar control his own army—both most disastrous facts”.

Decimus Brutus was inaccurately informed as to the relations between Octavian and his troops, but was quite right in concluding that he had no help to expect from him. He wrote again on the 12th of May, attributing his delay in beginning the pursuit to the fact that “he could not put any confidence in Caesar without visiting and conversing with him.” He had, however, gained nothing by the interview, and had been specially dismayed to find that the Martia and Quarta refused to join him. On the 24th of May he writes again, warning Cicero that Octavian has heard of his epigram; that the veterans are indignant at the proceedings in Rome; and that Octavian had secured all the troops lately commanded by Pansa. Later in the same month he appears to have suggested the recall of M. Brutus, and that meanwhile the defence of Italy should be intrusted to Octavian.

This last suggestion shows how far he had failed to penetrate the policy of Octavian. The mistake was shared by L. Munatius Plancus, governor of Celtic Gaul, who was moving down towards the province expecting to be joined by Octavian in opposing Antony, or, at any rate, supposing that Octavian’s army was at the disposal of the Senate. “Let Caesar,” he says, on the 6th of June, “come with the best troops he has, or, if anything prevents him from coming in person, let his army be sent.” Some weeks later he too had learnt that Caesar’s real purpose had been misunderstood. He writes on the 28th of July:—

“I have never ceased importuning him by letter, and he has uniformly replied that he is coming without delay, while all the time I perceive that he has given up that idea, and has taken up some other scheme. Nevertheless, I have sent our friend Furnius to him with a message and a letter, in case he may be able to do some good.”

While the generals in Gaul were thus being gradually brought to see that Octavian had an independent policy of his own, the hopes of support entertained by Cicero at home were one by one disappearing. By the middle of May he knew that Antony’s retreat was not the disorganised flight supposed, nor the end of the war.

“The news which reached Rome”, he says, about the 1sth of May, “and what everybody believed, was that Antony had fled with a small body of men, who were without arms, panic stricken, and utterly demoralised. But if he is in such a position (as Graeceius tells us) that he cannot be offered battle without risk, he appears to me not to have fled from Mutina, but merely to have changed the seat of war. Accordingly, there is a general revulsion of feeling.”

In these circumstances Cicero could do nothing but try to keep Decimus Brutus, Lepidus, and Plancus loyal to the Senate, and urge them to act with vigour.

“Be your own Senate,” he writes to Plancus about the 27th of May, “and follow wherever the interests of the public service shall lead you. Let it be your object that we hear of some brilliant operation by you before we thought that it was going to happen. I pledge you my word that whatever you achieve the Senate will accept as having been done not only with loyal intention, but with wisdom also.”

But on the 29th of May Lepidus joined Antony. On the 3rd of June Decimus Brutus writes for the last time in despairing tones to Cicero from near Grenoble, and though a subsequent junction with Plancus kept him from destruction for a few weeks longer, he was never able to do anything of any account again. The only hope remaining to Cicero was to induce M. Brutus or C. Cassius, or both, to come to Italy with their armies. He had not, indeed, quite given up hope of Octavian’s loyalty, but his old doubts were recurring, and though he still used flattering words to him, he must have been conscious that Octavian had gauged their value. Late in June, writing to urge M. Brutus to come to Italy, he says: “The protecting force of the young Caesar I regard as trustworthy; but so many are trying to sap his loyalty that at times I am mortally afraid of his giving in.”

It does not seem true that Octavian yielded to the influence of others in the steps which he now took. As at other times in his life he may have listened to advice, but the final decision was always his own, adopted from no passing sentiment or passion, but with the cool determination of settled policy. He had decided that to be able to treat with Antony on equal terms he must obtain one of the vacant consulships. This would make him legally head of the State, and add to his military strength the prestige and authority of that position. If possible he would be elected without any show of force, and therefore began negotiations with the Senate soon after the battles of Mutina through Cicero. But the Senate suspected Cicero of wishing for the consulship himself, and would not listen to the suggestion. The constitutional difficulty about the election gave the Senate a decent excuse for postponement. Both consuls were dead, and the praetor was unable to “create” a higher imperium than his own. There was no one to name a dictator, and as magistrates with imperium still existed the auspicia had not reverted to the patres, therefore they could not name interreges. On the 1st of January, when the curule offices would all be vacant: the auspicia would revert to the Senate, Accordingly, after some discussion, Cicero tells a correspondent at the end of June, it had been held to be best, “in the interests of the constitution, to put off the elections till January.” But Octavian had no intention of being thwarted by this technical difficulty. He had no wish for the present to farther weaken Antony, and bring the whole weight of the Ciceronians upon himself, but he was resolved that the consulship was necessary in order to be on an equal footing with him. He therefore allowed a deputation of four hundred of his soldiers to go to Rome to demand the payment of the bounties voted to them, with the understanding that they were also to ask for the consulship for Octavian. There would be some show of reason in combining these two demands, for they needed his protection against the decemvirs, who were likely to interfere in the allotment of lands made both by Iulius and Antony. But the deputation, though admitted to the curia, received an unfavourable answer. We are told that the Senate insisted on their appearing unarmed, but that one of them left the Senate house and returned with a sword and the remark, “If you do not give Caesar the consulship this will do so.” Whereupon Cicero exclaimed, “If that is your way of pressing his suit, he will get it.” The same story is told of Iulius, and one is always suspicious of such dramatic scenes. At any rate, Octavian regarded the attitude of the Senate as hostile, and determined to march on Rome with his eight legions, a corresponding force of cavalry, and some auxiliary troops.

He moved in two columns, the first consisting of his swiftest and most active men, led by himself; for among other causes of anxiety was a fear that his mother and sister might meet with ill-treatment in Rome. The Senate had no troops to oppose to this formidable army, and in its terror sent legates with the money promised to the men, but lately refused to the deputation. Octavian however refused them entrance into the camp, and pushed on without stopping. The panic in the city grew daily more acute, and Cicero, who had pledged his credit for Octavian’s loyalty, found himself an object of suspicion and retired from Rome. Then every concession was made in the Senate: the bounty promised to some of the troops was doubled, and extended to all the troops alike, though the exchequer was exhausted by the payment of only two legions. Octavian was to have the distribution of lands and rewards instead of the decemvirs, and was allowed to be a candidate for the consulship in his absence. Messengers were sent to announce these concessions to him; but he had scarcely heard them when he was informed of a change of sentiment in Rome. The legions, summoned by the Senate from Africa, had arrived; Cicero had reappeared; the decrees were rescinded; and measures were being taken to defend the city. The two legions from Africa were to be supported by a levy en masse and by a legion enrolled by Pansa but not taken with him. The city praetor M. Cornutus was to be commander-in-chief. At the same time boats and other means of transport were being prepared in the Tiber for the escape of the chief citizens, their families and property, in case of defeat; while a vigorous search was being made for Octavian’s brother and sister as hostages. Octavian felt that no time was to be lost. Sending forward messengers to assure the people that they would not be harmed, he continued his advance on Rome. A day’s march from the city he was met by a large number of real or pretended sympathisers; and felt it safe to leave his troops and enter Rome with a strong bodyguard. Enthusiastic crowds greeted his entrance, and as he approached the temple of Vesta he had the happiness of seeing his mother and sister, who had taken sanctuary with the Vestals, and now came out to embrace him. The three legions in Rome, in spite of some opposition from their officers, declared for him; and the praetor Cornutus killed himself in despair. It was all over, and Octavian was master of the situation. For a moment indeed there seemed a gleam of hope. A rumour reached the city that the Martia and Quarta had refused to follow Octavian to Rome. Cicero hastily gathered some partisans into the Senate house in the evening to discuss the possibility of further resistance. But while they were in conference they learnt that the rumour was false. There was nothing for it but to disperse, and Cicero was fain to seek out Octavian and offer a tardy congratulation—received with ironical courtesy.

The constitutional difficulty as to the election was at once surmounted by the investment of two men with pro-consular powers to hold it. The rest was mere form, and on the 19th of August Octavian, with his cousin Q. Pedius, entered upon their consulship. The now obsequious Senate proceeded to heap honours upon him. He was to have money to pay the promised bounties; to enjoy an imperium, when with an army, superior to the consuls; to do whatever he thought necessary for the protection of the city; and to take over the army lately assigned to Decimus Brutus. The lex curiata for his adoption under Caesar’s will was at once passed, and he was now by right as well as by courtesy a Caesar. His colleague, Q. Pedius, at the same time carried a law for the trial of all concerned in the murder of Iulius, and the questio seems at once to have been instituted. All were condemned in their absence and lost their citizenship and the protection of the laws. Brutus and Cassius, with the rest of the assassins, were thus put at a great disadvantage. It was an act of war on their part, as condemned men, to hold their provinces or command troops. That the Senate, in which the majority were doubtless in favour of Brutus and Cassius, should have practically sanctioned these measures shows how completely it was cowed. Octavian’s position was, in fact, a very strong one. It was not possible for M. Brutus to transport a sufficient force from Macedonia to crush him, much less for Cassius from Syria. The two combined would no doubt hope some day to be able to attack him; but meanwhile he had time to fortify himself by new coalitions.

Caesar—as we should now call him—only stayed in Rome to see these measures secured. He then left the city under the care of Pedius, and marched once more into Cisalpine Gaul. His nominal object was to destroy Decimus Brutus—now a condemned man—but his real purpose was to come to an understanding with Antony and Lepidus. Letters had already passed between them, and some plan of action had been agreed upon. Antony was to crush Decimus Brutus and Plancus, while the Senate was persuader by Pedius to rescind the decrees, declaring Antony and Lepidus hostes. This news was sent to Caesar while on his leisurely march, and passed on by him to Antony; who thereupon proceeded to fulfil his part of the bargain. He was by this time, or shortly afterwards, reinforced by Asinius Pollio with two legions from Spain, who at once succeeded in securing the cohesion of Plancus. The greater part of the troops under Decimus Brutus also insisted on following Plancus; and Brutus was obliged to fly with a small force.

This settled the fate of Decimus Brutus, and left Northern Italy open to Antony, unless Caesar still chose to oppose him. After various fruitless attempts to escape, Brutus was put to death by a Sequanian Gaul, under orders from Antony, who then with Pollio and Lepidus marched into Cispadane Gaul with a large part of their forces, the rest being left to guard the province. The invading army marched along the Aemilian road as though to attack Caesar. But the real intention on both sides was to come to terms. On an islet in a tributary of the Po, between Mutina and Bononia, the three leaders, Antony, Lepidus, and Caesar met for conference, though not till elaborate precautions had been taken against treachery. For two days they sat from morning till night in earnest debate, in full view of their respective armies. On the third the soldiers of both sides were summoned to a contio, and informed of the articles which had been agreed upon, though the last and most terrible of them—the proscription—was not communicated. The terms announced were: (1) Caesar agreed to abdicate the consulship, which was to be held for the remainder of the year by Ventidius Bassus; (2) Lepidus and Plancus were to be consuls for BC42; (3) Lepidus, Caesar, and Antony were to be appointed by a lex for the remainder of the year, and for five years from the next 1st of January, triumviri reipublica constituenda—a board of three for settling the constitution.

The Triumvirate was practically a dictatorship in commission. The word was avoided owing to its prohibition in Antony’s law. But the triumvirs were to exercise all the powers of a dictator; their acta were to be authoritative; they were to be independent of the Senate; superior to all magistrates; to have the right of proposing laws to the Comitia; to regulate the appointment of magistrates and provincial governors. The colleagueship was an apparent concession to the fundamental principle of the constitution; but from the first it was practically a duumvirate rather than a triumvirate, Lepidus being treated almost at once as inferior. The Empire east of the Adriatic was for the moment separated from this home government, being held by Brutus and Cassius; but the western part was to be divided among the three—Caesar taking Africa, Sardinia, and Sicily; Antony, Cisalpine Gaul and Transalpina, with the exception of Narbonensis; Lepidus, Gallia Narbonensis and Upper Spain. In these districts each would be supreme and govern personally or by their legates. But the greater part of Caesar’s share was still in the hands of Sextus Pompeius and would have to be won back. It was accordingly arranged that in the following year Lepidus, as consul, should be responsible for the order of Italy, while Caesar undertook to put down Sextus, and Antony to confront M. Brutus and Cassius.

The soldiers of both armies having no desire to fight each other, received the announcement with enthusiasm. Their devotion to Iulius Caesar’s memory was warmed by the belief that the anti-Casarean clique at Rome meant to deprive them of the money and lands assigned to them. The Triumvirs, on the other hand, promised them allotments in the choicest parts of Italy:—Capua, Rhegium, Venusia, Vibo, Beneventum, Ariminum, Nuceria, There was land at most of these places which from one cause or another had become ager publicus; and when that failed there would always be owners, whose part in the war just over, and that about to take place, would give opportunity for confiscation. This combination of military chiefs therefore suited the views and wishes of the soldiers, and some of them urged that the bond should be drawn still closer by Caesar’s marriage with Antony’s step-daughter Clodia. Caesar assented to the betrothal, but as Clodia was still quite young, he prudently deferred the marriage. He doubtless foresaw possible inconveniences in being too closely allied with Antony.

The next step was for the three to enter Rome and obtain a legal confirmation of their appointment. But they did not wait till their arrival in the city to begin the Proscription  vengeance. They had agreed to follow the precedent of Sulla by publishing lists of men declared to be out of the pale of the law. The larger list was reserved for farther consideration; but a preliminary list of seventeen names was drawn up at once, and soldiers were sent with orders to put the men to death wherever found. Among these were Cicero, his brother, and nephew. Plutarch tells us that Cicero’s name was put upon the list as a compromise. Octavian bargained for Lucius Caesar, Antony’s uncle, and in return conceded to Antony the inclusion of Cicero, while Lepidus consented to his brother, L. Paulus, being entered. Four of the seventeen were found at once and put to death. Cicero escaped till the arrival of the triumvirs in Rome, but was killed near Formiae on the 7th of December, his brother and nephew having already been put to death in Rome. Caesar was the first to arrive in the city, and was quickly followed by Antony and Lepidus, each with a strong praetorian guard. Their appointment was duly confirmed in the Comitia on the proposal of the tribune Titus Titius, and on the 27th of November they entered upon their office.

Naturally the sudden execution of three of the seventeen who were found in Rome had created great alarm in the city, where no one knew whose turn was to come next. The panic was somewhat lessened by Pedius publishing the list of the seventeen, with the assurance that no more executions were intended. He appears to have honestly believed this, but the agitation of the night of horror was too much for him, and he died within the next twenty-four hours. On the day after the installation of the triumvirs (November 28th) the citizens were horrified to see an edict fixed up in the Forum, detailing the causes of the executions which were to follow, and offering a reward for the head of any one of those named below—25,000 sesterces to a freeman, 10,000 and freedom to a slave. All who aided or concealed a proscribed man were to suffer death themselves. Below were two tablets, one for Senators and one for equites. They contained 130 names, besides the original seventeen, to which were shortly added 150 more. Additions were continually being made during the following days, either from private malice or covetousness. In some cases men were first killed and then their names inserted in the lists. The edict made it the interest of slaves to betray their masters, against whom perhaps in many cases these unfortunate men had a long list of injuries to avenge. They had now the fierce gratification of seeing their oppressors grovelling at their feet. But it also placed a severe strain on the affection of the nearest kinsmen whose lives were forfeited if they concealed or aided the proscribed. The sale of confiscated property at low rates gave opportunities for the covetous, and many a man perished because he possessed house or land desired by Fulvia or some friend of Antony. But though the terror revealed much meanness and treachery, it also brought to light many instances of courage and devotion. Wives and sons risked death for husbands and fathers; and there were slaves who assumed the dress of their masters and died for them.

The massacre began with Salvius, though holding the sacrosanct office of tribune. Two praetors—Minucius and L. Velleius—were cut down while engaged in their courts. To show how no connections, however high, were to save any man, at the head of the list was a brother of Lepidus, an uncle of Antony, a brother of Plancus, and the father-in-law of Asinius Pollio. But as usual in times of such horror, many perished who from their hamble position or their youth could have had no share in politics. The total number eventually proscribed, according to Appian, was “three hundred Senators and about two thousand equites.” Livy says that there were 130 names of Senators on the lists, and a large number of equites. Livy is probably giving the number of Senators who actually perished. In Rome itself the terror was probably brief. It would not take long to find those who stayed in the city; the gates and roads were strictly guarded, and it was difficult to evade military vigilance. But many were hiding in the country, and the search for them went on into the first months of the next year, and all through Italy soldiers were scouring towns, villages, woods, and marshes in search of the proscribed. Probably the exact number of those executed was never known. But it seems likely that about half escaped, some of whom in happier times rose to high office. There were three possible places of refuge, the camp of M. Brutus in Macedonia, of Cassius in Syria and the fleet of Sext. Pompeius in Sicily. Pompeius sent vessels to cruise round the southern coasts of Italy and pick up refugees; and tried to counteract the edict by offering those who saved any one of them double the sum set upon their heads by the triumvirs. He was liberal in relieving their necessities, and found commands or other employments for those of high rank. At length, early in BC42 Lepidus informed the Senate that the proscriptions were at an end. He seems to have meant by this that no new list was to be issued, not that those already proscribed were to be pardoned; and Caesar, who was present, entered a protest against being bound even by this declaration.

In fact another list was published, but this time it was of properties to be confiscated, not of lives to be taken. In spite of the already large confiscations the triumviral government was in financial difficulties. Confiscated properties were liable to reductions for the dowries of widows, 10 per cent, to sons, and 5 per cent, to daughters. These claims were not always paid perhaps, but they sometimes were. Again, besides the natural fall of prices caused by so much property coming into the market at once, much of it was sold to friends and partisans at great reductions, few venturing to bid against men in power or soldiers. The treasury, therefore, was not enriched as much as might have been expected, and as the triumvirs had two wars in the immediate future to face, they were in great need of money. The tributum and tax on slaves were re-imposed, but failed to produce a surplus. A device therefore was hit upon something like the fines on “Malignants” in England, under the Commonwealth. Lists of persons more or less suspect were put up, who were ordered to contribute a tenth of their property. Each man had to value his own estate, and this gave rise to frequent accusations of fraud, generally resulting in the confiscation of the whole. Others found it impossible to raise the money without selling property, which could only be done just then at a ruinous sacrifice. An alternative was offered to such men which proved equally ruinous. They might surrender their whole estate and apply for the restoration of a third. The treasury was not likely to be prompt in completing the transaction, for it had first to sell and satisfy charges on the estate, nor to take a liberal view of the amount due to the owner. It was an encumbered estates act, under which the margin of salvage was always small, and tended to disappear altogether. Among those thus proscribed were about fourteen hundred ladies. They did not silently submit, but applied to Octavia, as well as to Antony’s mother Iulia, and his wife Fulvia. By Octavia and Iulia they were kindly received, but were driven from Fulvia’s door. Undismayed they appeared before the tribunal of the triumvirs, where Hortensia, daughter of the orator Hortensius, pleaded their cause with something of her father’s eloquence. “If they were guilty,” she argued, “they ought to have shared the fate of their relations. If not it was as unjust to injure their property as their persons. They had no share in political rights, and therefore were not liable to taxation. Women had of old voluntarily contributed their personal ornaments to the defences of the country; but they had never contributed, and, she hoped, never would contribute to a civil war, or show sympathy on either side.” The triumvirs received the protest with anger, and ordered their lictors to drive the ladies away. But they were struck by marks of disapproval among the crowd; and next day a new edict was substituted, which contained only four hundred names of women, and, instead of naming individual men, imposed on all properties above 100,000 sesterces an immediate tax of 2 per cent, of the capital, and one year’s income for the expenses of the war.

For a just view of the character of Augustus, it is important to decide how far he acquiesced in the cruelties of the proscription. With the general policy he seems to have been in full accord: and as far as a complete vengeance on those implicated in the murder of Iulius was concerned, he was no doubt inexorable. But his administration as sole head of the state was so equitable and clement, that many found it difficult to believe that he did more than tacitly acquiesce in the rest of the proscriptions. Augustus himself, in the memoir left to be engraved after his death, omits all mention of them, and conveniently passes from the legal condemnation of the assassins to the assertion that he spared the survivors of Philippi. Paterculus only alludes to them in a sentence, which contains a skilful insinuation that Augustus only joined in them under compulsion. Appian makes no distinction between the three. He tells us, indeed, some stories of mercy shown by Augustus, and of his expressing approbation of acts of fidelity on the part of friends or slaves. But he also credits Antony with at least one act of a similar kind. Plutarch says that most blame was thought to attach to Antony, as being older than Caesar and more influential than Lepidus. Dio goes more fully into the question. He affirms that Antony and Lepidus were chiefly responsible for the proscriptions, pointing out that Octavian by his own nature, as well as his association with Iulius, was inclined to clemency ; and moreover, that he had not been long enough engaged in politics to have conceived many enmities, while his chief wish was to be esteemed and popular; and lastly, that when he got rid of these associates, and was in sole power, he was never guilty of such crimes. The strongest of these arguments is that which claims for Caesar's youth immunity from widespread animosities; and it does seem probable that outside the actual assassins and their immediate supporters, Augustus would not personally have cared to extend the use of the executioner’s sword. But he cannot be acquitted of a somewhat cynical indifference to the cruelties perpetrated under the joint name and authority of the triumvirs. None of them have been directly attributed to him, except perhaps in the case of his (apparently unfaithful) guardian Toranius; but neither is there any record of his having interfered to prevent them. Suetonius seems to give the truer account, that he resisted the proscription at first, but, when it was once decided upon, insisted that it should be carried out relentlessly. The proscription was an odious crime; but a proscription that did not fulfil its purpose would have been a monstrous blunder also. I do not, however, admit Seneca’s criticism that his subsequent clemency was merely “cruelty worn out.” The change was one of time and circumstance. Youth is apt to be hard-hearted. With happier surroundings and lengthened experience his character and judgment ripened and mellowed.

While these horrors were just beginning Caesar lost his mother Atia, the tender and careful guide of his childhood and youth, the first of his near kin to recognise approve his high destiny. She died while he was still consul, that is, between the 19th of August and the 27th of November, BC43. Devoted to her in her life Caesar now obtained for her the honours of a public funeral. During the campaign of Mutina she was, it seems, at Rome; and when his estrangement from the Senate made her position unpleasant or dangerous, she had taken sanctuary with the Vestal Virgins accompanied by Octavia, and was ready to greet him when he returned to Rome. Nicolas of Damascus gives an attractive picture of Octavian’s relations with his mother; and even the uncomplimentary Suetonius owns that his dutiful conduct to her had been exemplary. She had brought up her son with strictness, and the author of the de oratoribus classes her with the mother of the Gracchi. But her strictness had not forfeited her son’s affection, nor failed to impress upon him a high sense of duty. Her second husband Philippus survived her several years.

CHAPTER V. PHILIPPI